


Scars Fade

by cloudofsmoke



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Cheating, F/M, Married Life, Multi, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Scars, a little fluff, careful, friendships, happy ending maybe don't know yet, learn to forgive, mature language, one more chance, save me i am bored
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:02:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 27,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24334054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudofsmoke/pseuds/cloudofsmoke
Summary: Iwaizumi's sins cost him the one thing he didn't want to fuck up. Yet he still did.Oikawa can count on one hand the actual times he punched Iwaizumi in the face. This was one of them. And it wasn't just once that he did.This is the story of how Iwaizumi fucked up so bad Oikawa had no choice but to step in and save the day. And whether it'll be a happy ending or not, it's all up to you.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime/Original Female Character(s), Oikawa Tooru/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

Hot, fat tears rolled down your cheeks as the grip on the shirt you were holding tightened, hands trembling. A gasp escaped your lips and you bent forward, inhaling like a drowning man desperate for air. Your vision swam and the sudden nausea quickly rising in your throat made you lose your balance. You dropped the shirt, gripping on the edge of the sink to try and steady yourself in your rapidly spinning and crumbling world.

Suddenly, flaring rage fueled your feet as you walked out of the laundry room with the shirt on hand, your legs stretching as far as they could go. Everything was a blur as you proceeded to your bedroom, your shared bedroom with your husband, your mind set with one goal in mind.

To fight.

The door swung as you stepped into the dark room, the only light coming in from the hallway. Your eyes stopped at the figure on the bed, noting with despicable precision the steady breathing of the man asleep. As quickly as it came, the rage within you vanished, leaving only numbness and crushing sadness to accompany you.

To be perfectly honest, it was not something that came out of nowhere. It was more of a build-up, an accumulation of many things you ignored, tried to bury into nothingness, as though ignoring things will magically make them go away. You wished it did. But it didn't. Simply because it hurt. Because everything hurt. The signs were there, glaring in your face, all bright and clear as the rising sun. It was all there, yet you chose to ignore it. 

Because you want to make this work. Because you can still take it. Because you can fix it. Because you love him.

But what's broken can never be fixed.

You scoffed as the thought passes in your head, followed by a static, a deafening silence that bounced off the walls of the home you once thought was warm, but was now very cold and quiet. The tears stopped as you realized they were his words to begin with. His words that never faltered in being straightforward, being strong and reliable. Words you never thought would be the one to cut you deep to the point of no return.

The tightening in your chest stopped as you closed your eyes, fighting back the urge to scream and to break and to fight. You couldn't do any of those things. Not when he's sleeping soundly for the first time in so many restless nights. 

Your lips tremble as you thought of the fact it was without you.

All at once, the fight that fueled your body left along with the long exhale you let out, turning your limbs to jelly, your heart to stone and your soul to dust. Leaving nothing but a shell of a person.

You blinked as the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall and into the kitchen. Morning light seeped through the windows and you flinched, wondering how long you were staring into nothing. Your eyes feel dry, from crying too much or staring too much, you didn't know, didn't care.

"I'll be home late. You don't need to stay up." 

The words registered a second too late through the fog in your head, and you looked up in time to see him pass by the kitchen, proceeding to the door, a suitcase in hand and dressed up for work. It was nothing new. Just another check to the list of things you deliberately ignored.

You opened your mouth to speak, but it was too dry and scratchy, the sound coming out like a cough. He barely turned his head, focused on putting his shoes to get on with his day and with his life.

"Hajime."

Silence was your only reply, so you tried again, louder.

"Hajime."

"What?" He snapped, turning his head in your direction. He barely flinched at the look on your face, his eyes quickly going back down to his shoes. "It's work. I need to finish some stuff, so I'll be late. I already told you about this a million times."

"I know, Hajime," you replied, surprised at the calmness in your voice. This seemed to surprise him too, because he looked up again, his eyes finally meeting yours. You managed to spare him a smile, a genuine smile as you slowly walked towards him. "Let me see you off…"

With furrowed eyebrows, he shrugged and slid on his shoes. Slowly, he picked up his suitcase and stood straight back up. His eyes quickly scanned you, probably looking for some clue on what it will be about. "Did you sleep? You look like-"

A giggle bubbled out of you at his comment. "Like Oikawa when he's stressed?"

He grimaced, but laughed nonetheless.

You remembered how easy it was before, to joke around and tease, with each other and often Oikawa. How it felt to be comfortable around each other. How easy it was to fall into a rhythm, a routine, a life, around each other. Now, it feels like one is itching to get away from the other and you knew it was supposed to be much more painful than this, but the fight has long left you from the time you stormed inside your bedroom and on your way out.

Straightening your back, you smiled at him, only able to because of the certain peace in your heart that enveloped you after thinking things through overnight.

"Hajime, I want you to be happy," you said with as much conviction and strength as you could muster, feeling its meaning and truth down to your soul. When he just blinked and furrowed his eyebrows at your words, you laughed and waved him off.

Reaching for his free hand, you didn't stop when he visibly flinched at your touch, the pain that stabbed your heart dulled by the numbness. You smiled again, gentle and genuine as you grip on it, reawakening in your heart and in your mind the warmth and strength his hand had given you through the years.

He was still your comfort, peace, and home. 

But you weren't his anymore.

"Have fun at work," you whispered, letting go of his hand and handing him his bento.

He unlocked the door and stepped out, looking at you as the door closed on its own.

As the door clicked shut and his footsteps echoed and faded into nothing, you smiled as tears streamed down your face, your hand closing on your now empty ring finger.

The words he whispered before the door closed echoed loud and hard, in the walls so silently loud last night. Your heart broke all over again and you fell to your knees as another promise will never come true anymore.

"See you later."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iwaizumi carries the weight of the world on his shoulders and Oikawa is there to help.

Iwaizumi Hajime is a respectable man. 

At least, that was who he was until he stumbled, tumbling down the path he never knew he would. The guilt was there, but she breathed new life to his dull one, lighting up the fire inside him that he didn't feel dwindling down as he settled down with you. She was the spark that lightened up his life after years of comfort and peace.

It wasn't your fault.

It was his.

His morning at work went with scary precision and fluidity, something that only happens after years of experience. Something permanent to his ever dull and boring life. When lunch came, he mechanically lifted the lunch you gave him, blinking at the memory of your sleepless face hours before. 

It was nothing new, really. As a children's book author, you sometimes go on for days whenever inspiration came up, surviving on naps, snacks and adrenaline. It fascinated him, your devotion to your work, the effort you pour into it. Something he envied and praised and adored, all at the same time.

As he unwrapped the packaging, a piece of paper slipped down to the floor as a little metallic thunk echoed. He glanced down, watched as the ring lost its momentum and spun round and round until it stops.

It stops.

Everything in Hajime's world stopped.

The honking cars, the hustle and bustle of people, telephones going off, his own heartbeat. Everything faded into nothing as he stared at the familiar piece of metal on the floor. It's identical pair is in his finger, that's why. Burning hot every day as a reminder for his sins.

Slowly, and with trembling hands, he picked up the cold metal and the piece of paper, before falling down to his seat. His arms felt like lead, his shoulders bearing down the weight of his sins, threatening to cut off his airways and crush him into the ground. Unfolding the paper seemed to take longer, time stretching out in itself as his eyes scanned through the contents.

Hajime,

I am giving this back to you. Be happy.

His thumb traced the words, following the handwriting that seemed familiar and foreign to him. Closing his eyes, he leaned back in his seat, his hand clenching the ring tight until his knuckles turned white. It still felt cold, no matter how long he held it, no matter how strong he clung to it.

Slowly, the world came alive around him again as sharp stabbing pain closed in on his heart, reminding him that he was alive, that this was real, this was truth.

A voice flitted through the air and into his ears, before slim arms wound around his neck, enveloping him in a sweet, flowery scent. He stood abruptly, as though the touch and smell burned and choked him. The ring on his hand felt heavier and colder as he gasped for air.

"I need to leave." The words barely left his mouth before he was running, his feet surprisingly weightless even though his limbs were lead. It was as if this was right. As if this was what he needed to do.

He should've realized how stupid he was. 

As the front door swung open, a dark, empty house presented itself and the truth slapped him in the face.

It wasn't funny, but he laughed. Laughed so hard and loud, his voice cracking as he fell to his knees, laughter turning into tears, tears turning into sobs, sobs turning into screams. He was stupid. He was an idiot. And it was all his fault.

He didn't know how long he stayed like that, he only knew that everything stopped again. No signs of life in the world he was in. Ironic, really. His faults began as he looked for anything that would give him life, yet here he was, as dead as a rock on a sidewalk, an empty shell of a human being.

Suddenly, his phone blasted a ringtone designated for a certain being, someone he didn't have the heart to ignore, despite his heart practically shredded to pieces. He didn't have to look, just pressed on the little green button and lifted it to his ears.

"Iwa-chan!" Oikawa whined on the other line, still loud and annoying as ever. "Is my wife there? She's not answering my texts!"

My wife.

Oikawa has always called you that, even before you got married. Iwaizumi blinked as tears flowed down his cheeks again, having no energy to even argue or shout or talk anymore. He didn't trust his voice, so he remained silent, removing the phone from his ear. Still, Oikawa's whines and cries can be heard even at the distance.

Gathering enough strength, Iwaizumi grits his teeth hard, clamping down on the words as though if he locked them hard enough in his throat and never speak the words out, it wouldn't be true. The empty house seemed to laugh at him at that.

"She left."

Oikawa was quiet for a second before erupting into questions. Questions Iwaizumi was asking himself, was too scared to ask out loud, was too scared to answer because he knows all the right answers, but still didn't know how to make everything right. A coward. That's all he will ever be.

"She left, Oikawa. She left me." Iwaizumi's voice cracked at the end, a signal for sobs to break out of his lifeless body. He didn't care, didn't give a damn at how awful this must be for Oikawa. To listen to him cry, listen to him weep because of the fruit of his mistakes.

He was still crying when he was gathered in Oikawa's arms, the familiar scent reaching his nose and he clutched on Oikawa's shirt like his life depended on it. They stayed that way for who knows how long, only that Iwaizumi didn't want to move, didn't want to breath, and as his eyelids closed off in exhaustion, he wished this was just a very long nightmare and when he wakes up, you'll be beside him, sleeping soundly after your previous all-nighter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Damn right you do."

Oikawa didn't know what he wanted to do first. He was torn between running after you as fast as he could and ripping Iwaizumi to shreds. Both, he couldn't do, so in his utter frustration, he punched Iwaizumi in the face. It was the closest, anyway.

Iwaizumi fell out of his seat, his lip busted and blood quickly flowed out. He just blinked, brushing a thumb on his lip and stared at the red when he pulled it away.

"What the hell did you do, Iwaizumi?" Oikawa screeched, his anger boiling out of him as he paced back and forth, his perfect, glorious hair now a mess because of him constantly running his fingers through it.

Iwaizumi flinched, maybe at his tone or maybe being addressed as Iwaizumi. Oikawa didn't care. He was livid. Mad with anger about what Iwaizumi has told him, what he had done, what he did to you.

He watched as Iwaizumi shake his head, looking defeated and lifeless on the floor. Oikawa wanted to sit with him on the floor and cry his eyes out. Just the mere fact that you weren't here with them meant everything was true.

But he couldn't.

Not when his pillar, and your pillar, is crumbling down on the floor with bloodshot eyes and scratchy throat. Iwaizumi had always been the strong one, always reliable and responsible. The rare times he let loose and run wild very few and far in between, even with Matsukawa and Hanamaki in equation. The straight-laced. The leader.

Between the three of you, Iwaizumi has been the pillar in your relationship. Now that he stumbled, Oikawa decided to be the one to lend him strength. He wanted to be there for you, to share in your pain because god knows how awful Iwaizumi's actions were.

"Stand up," Oikawa growled out. Glaring at him on the floor. "Go and follow her. Beg her for forgiveness. Get down on your knees and beg, Iwaizumi. Fuck! You can even disembowel yourself so she'd forgive you."

Silence was Iwaizumi's only response.

Oikawa glared harder, wishing that if he glared hard enough, Iwaizumi would wake the hell up and follow his words. 

"Who was it?" Oikawa demanded, slamming his hand down the table.

"Kaede," Iwaizumi mumbled.

Oikawa's eyebrows shot up far into the sky, and he scoffed, rolling his eyes so hard he saw white for a second. "I knew that bitch had it in her."

Iwaizumi shook his head. "It's my fault."

An ear-splitting scream came out of Oikawa, making Iwaizumi jump in his seat on the floor. In a split-second, Oikawa was holding Iwaizumi by his collar, shoving his face as close as possible as he gritted out, "Damn right it is, you fucking bastard."

Shoving Iwaizumi away, Oikawa went back to pacing back and forth as Iwaizumi gathered his bearings again.

"Have you tried her phone?"

A head shake.

"Her parents?"

A head shake.

"You're an imbecile," Oikawa declared. He whipped out his phone, dialling your number. When it went to voicemail, Oikawa proceeded to your parents's home number. It rang for a while, Oikawa waiting patiently.

"They don't know," Iwaizumi said, finally getting up from his pity spot on the floor.

"You'd be in a coffin if they did," Oikawa snapped, but Iwaizumi smiled at the certainty of his words. A female voice answered and Oikawa perked up.

"Auntie! Did my wife made a surprise visit at your place? I wanted to take her out to dinner, but I can't reach her," Oikawa rattled out, his voice perky and bubbly.

"Tooru! Why, my lovely boy, she didn't drop by. How I wish you guys would drop by on your own," your mother replied.

"I miss you too, Auntie. We'll drop by soon," Oikawa promised.

"We'd love that," your mother agreed. "Take Hajime with you, alright?"

Oikawa smiled so sweetly Iwaizumi flinched, "Yes, we will. I'd have to say goodbye now, Auntie. We'll see you soon!"

As Oikawa pressed the end call button, he swiped a leg at Iwaizumi's thigh, muttering "damned bastard" under his breath.

"How the hell are we gonna fix this?" Oikawa cried, his legs giving out as he slumped down the couch. "If I knew you were gonna fuck up this bad, I would've killed you long ago."

Tears slipped from Oikawa's eyes and he growled, wiping at them as quickly as they came.

"You hurt her. You broke her heart. You messed up so bad, Iwa-chan," Oikawa said in between sobs. "She's my sister, my wife. You promised, Iwa-chan…"

Iwaizumi was quiet as he took a seat beside Oikawa, letting him cry his heart out. Suddenly, Oikawa froze, eyes wide and frantic, turning so fast towards Iwaizumi his neck cracked.

"How far did you go with the bitch?" he asked, acid coating his words. "Did you have sex with her?"

Iwaizumi had the decency to grimace, but he shook his head.

"Did you kiss her?"

A head shake.

"Flirting? Did you touch her?"

Iwaizumi was about to shake his head again, but Oikawa had enough of that, his patience snapping. Hitting the back of Iwaizumi's head, he screamed. "Use your damn mouth!"

Iwaizumi swallowed, eyes casting downwards. "I had dinner with her. She-she tried to kiss me, do more, but-" he drew a shaky breath before continuing, "I couldn't do it, Oikawa. You know how much I love Yuki."

"You love her so much you had dinner with another woman. You're an idiot," Oikawa spat.

"I know," Iwaizumi conceded, his shoulders hunched. "I just- I have no excuse, I know that. But when everything felt so safe and comfortable and normal, it became so easy to be swept by something exciting. It felt like something new came into my life and I was so blinded by it, that I didn't know what I was destroying in the process."

"So you fucked up," Oikawa concluded.

"So I fucked up," Iwaizumi seconded.

They both chuckled, then stopped at the same time. The weight of the situation settling down on them again. Oikawa smiled and Iwaizumi tried to return it, but grimaced at the sudden pain he felt.

Oikawa grinned, all teeth flashing white and bright. "Does it hurt, Iwa-chan?" He mocked.

Iwaizumi shook his head, a small smile on his lips. "I deserve it."

"Damn right you do."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tooru and his emojis.

Taking the Shinkansen that fated morning seemed like a faraway dream as you stretched, already prepared to get out of your apartment and begin your day. You didn't think you would be as impulsive as you did that day, jumping on the train with a suitcase filled only with bare necessities, for an escape that somehow turned to an adventure. 

Sure, you loved every second of it, despite the heavy burden in your heart and the little hopeful voice in your head that didn't fail to remind you how it would've been better if the people you love were there with you, the longing for your family hitting you in the guts hard. Nonetheless, you trudged on, swallowing the bitter pain and salty tears in exchange for a breath of fresh air and bright new mornings.

It took months before you stopped breaking into tears, especially at night. Some people were kind enough to ignore your bloodshot and puffy eyes most mornings, while others were forward enough to offer their own way of comforting others. That was how you made the handful of friends you have now, regardless of how you presented yourself at first. They were good people, warm and kind enough to somehow cover the iceberg of sadness and loneliness lodged deep in your heart.

Taking your bike off the stands, you hop on, waving good-bye to Sanae-san, the kind old lady downstairs of the apartment you were renting. It was a modest space, a somewhat traditional store on the quieter part of town. Sanae-san was the first person you met in this town, stumbling in her store after an hour of walking from the station. By some miracle, she was renting out the floor upstairs and you jumped the gun, deciding right then and there to grab it.

Since your line of work was flexible, with you working from home, arrangements were quickly made, enabling you to resume work without any hiccups or delays. Your editor, bless him for being oblivious and professional down to his bones, didn't pry and simply asked appropriate questions. Still, you asked that they keep your location private, strictly keeping the information to himself. He agreed, simply because 'your current output exceeded past performances.' You wondered, whether that was a good thing or not, but you'd gladly take it since it kept you well above water.

With more time in your hands, you decided to volunteer in the local town center, helping out wherever was needed. It helped take your mind off things, giving you new perspectives and experiences. You also learned new skills, since the jobs ranged far and wide, from gardening to plumbing to sewing to everything in between. Most of your time was spent on the daycare though, since they're always short-staffed and overloaded with kids. You've spent enough time with the kids to be on first-name basis with all of them.

You were running away, that much you knew. After letting your parents know that you will be away for an indefinite period, that you were alive and well and sane, and that you love them enough to come back one day, you turned your phone off. You buried the device under a mountain of clothes, deciding to wait until you've recovered enough not to turn into the cowardly, pitiful mess you were before holding the thing again. It took five months before you had the courage to plug the device back into life. You left it to charge, going through your day until it was night time and you had no more tasks to do and use as an excuse to forego the situation, left with no choice but to only woman up and face the reality you ran away from.

A hundred calls, voicemails and a thousand texts, the number dwindling down as the time you were away grew longer, before finally stopping once the limit was reached. You scrolled through the messages, a bulk of them from Tooru.

_I miss you, my wife~ .·´¯`( >▂<)´¯`·._

_I punched Iwa-chan for u!! Now come back or I'll punch him again!_

_Makki's pretending Iwa-chan doesn't exists!! I'm so sad (╥﹏╥)_

_I love you forever. Pls come back soon o((*^▽^*))o_

You shake your head, feeling the corners of your lips tilt up. Tooru and his emojis never failed to make you smile, always one of the constants when you have Oikawa Tooru in your life. The urge to send an outrageous emoji back was so hard you had to physically move away from the devilish object.

When you felt less driven to reply to Tooru, you picked it up again, this time listening to Hajime's voicemails.

The first few were more static than words, and you felt yourself choke up on the tears. You spent the night listening again and again to his voice, somehow enveloping you in the feel and warmth of the home you missed. Under the heavy haze of sleep and exhaustion, with the phone clutched tight in your chest, you listened to him tell the story of how three people met and stuck together for years, before two of them fell in love and got married and lived happily.

 _Only it wasn't happily ever after,_ you thought before succumbing to exhaustion and sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You need this hug more than anyone else right now.

There were things that told Iwaizumi you were alive and well. These facts were the reason why he didn't report you as a missing person, no matter how badly he wanted to see you again. No matter how painful it was to bear your absence.

The first was your book publishing. Every quarter, he checks out the bookstore, a habit he started when you became a publishing author. A month after you left, he received a notification from the bookstore that a book was published under the same author. He always went to buy your latest work even without your knowledge. 

There was a time when you kept bugging him about it, complaining that he didn't support you by buying your work, but he just rolled his eyes, dragging you away from the bookstore and into the ice cream shop you adored. He watched in the corner of his eye as you complained about him bribing you, stating indignantly that you'll never forget he didn't buy your book, when the truth was that a copy of said book was already in his safe for weeks now after it's release. What you didn't know won't hurt you anyway. It took years before you found out, simply because he kept it a secret from you, going as far as to hide his secret stash of books whenever you came over at his apartment. 

However, the time for his secret to be revealed came when it was time for you to move in to the house you will call home. It was a week after the wedding, going straight to moving and unpacking right after the honeymoon, that Iwaizumi was so lost in bliss he forgot about the books until you opened the box and started bawling. Suffice to say you were very happy and swore right then and there that Hajime is the best man to ever walk on this planet and that you'll marry him again right at that second. Tooru was there to protest, saying he bought all your books too, but you ignored him, going straight to Hajime's arms and crying your heart out in happiness.

The second was when his voicemails started getting through again after agonizingly long five months of failed attempts, maybe because your phone was dead or because it was full, he didn't know, didn't care. He was beyond himself in glee that he called Oikawa as fast as he could, to tell (screamed) at him that his voicemail went through. Oikawa still accused him of ruining his hearing up to this day, but Iwaizumi couldn't care less about it. It made him very happy that he could finally talk to you, no matter if it was one-sided. 

It meant a lot of things he's greatful for. You were alive. You were well. You were still within the country, not far from his reach. And he hoped to all the gods you were listening.

All these came after a gruelling and painful month for him and Oikawa. Not that the months that came after weren't painful anymore. You were still away, that much felt like death to Iwaizumi.

The morning after you left, your parents called for him to come over. They were calm on the phone, but Tooru cried it was the 'calm before the storm' so many times along the way. As if Iwaizumi didn't know that. He snapped at Tooru, telling him to shut up so he can focus on not killing them on the road. The second they entered the house, a solemn mood came over and everyone remained silently seated in their seats. It was your mom that bravely broke the suffocating silence.

"What happened, Hajime?"

The question, so innocent and pure coming from your mother's lips, broke Iwaizumi. The only thing he could do was to fall on his knees and apologize over and over for the sins he committed. He told them everything, the flirtations with Kaede, the dinners with her, the cold treatment he put you through because of his misdirected anger. 

All of it. 

It didn't matter what happened to him, what he loses at this point. You were gone, and that lost was enough to stop breathing.

By the end of his confession, your mother and Oikawa were in tears, and your father, evidently suppressing anger as his knuckles shook. Iwaizumi's eye contact seemed to break the spell, and your father lunged, holding Iwaizumi by the collars of his shirt.

"Bring my daughter back to us," he growled, veins popping. He took a deep breath before releasing Iwaizumi, staggering away from the younger man. Iwaizumi reached out to help steady him but his hand was slapped away like it was pure dirt. "You disappoint me, Hajime," he said before walking away, the bedroom door shutting behind him.

Iwaizumi felt his heart shatter then, as though dust can still break to smaller pieces. It felt like it did, because your dad was one of the handful of people he never wanted to disappoint. He was like a real father to him, one held with almost of equal pedestal with his own. 

"Hajime," your mother called, taking Iwaizumi's attention off the floor. "Please give us time to process what's happening. I know Yuki would never ask us to choose between the two of you. That's probably another reason why she left. Because she knew we'd be torn with what is happening. She's our daughter as much as you are our son the moment she loved you, but right now, we need time to think."

Iwaizumi could only nod, before following your mother to stand. "I'm so sorry," he whispered.

He blinked as your mother enveloped him in a hug, tight and warm, something he didn't deserve.

"I can only guess how terrible you feel, Hajime, but if you love our daughter as much as I know you do, then you need this hug more than anyone else right now."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Misery needs company.

When Oikawa heard that Iwaizumi's voicemails started getting through again, he was beyond pissed, not only because his ear probably sustained irreparable damage because of Iwa's screaming, but also because he can't contact you on his own at the moment without incurring huge financial loss. He was in Rio for heaven's sake!

Still, it was a loss he could forego, no matter how much he needed to pay nor how he would probably get ignored anyway. It was something he'd still do, regardless of the consequences.

So he did. 

Sent a text with lots of emojis he knew you'd definitely call obnoxious, to make his money worth.

He left it at that, didn't wait for five minutes for a reply that he knew would never come. Instead, he went on his day, focusing on practice, polishing his serves and setting brighter than the sun. They were on a break when he found his phone blinking because of a notification. He picked it up, expecting some Twitter or Instagram notification. What he saw made his heart literally stop before jolting back to life in an abnormal speed. In a haste similar to a toddler opening his Christmas gift from Santa, Oikawa messed up twice on his PIN before he was able to unlock it.

Then he laughed, then screamed, then laughed again, jumping all over the place, in glee, happiness, excitement and relief all bundled tight in his long limbs. His coach and teammates, bless their patience and tolerance, only shook their heads at his display of wild craziness.

He replied before dialling Iwaizumi's number, fees be damned.

"Iwa-chan!" He gushed at the first click of the phone. "Oh my god! You won't believe this- oh my god!"

"Trashykawa, what the hell? It's-it's two am!" Iwaizumi grumbled.

Oikawa stomped his foot, but he was still smiling like an idiot. As though Iwaizumi could see him. "Iwa-chan! Yuki replied to my text! Just now, she replied!"

A loud thud and a groan before Iwaizumi was shouting in Oikawa's ear. Questions pouring out of his mouth like bursting fountain, but Oikawa was laughing again, hard enough he fell to the floor gasping.

"Did-did you-" Oikawa couldn't force the words out in between his laughter. "Iwa-chan, did you-"

Oikawa snorted, laughter taking over his whole body until he was crying happy tears. Iwaizumi, realizing his actions, and hearing Oikawa switch between snorting and laughing, felt himself loosen up before he himself was also snorting and laughing on his bedroom floor, a thousand miles away from the person he was laughing with.

Two beeps rang in their ears before it was silence, and they both stared incredulously at their phones before cracking up, two grown men, on separate floors, laughing their hearts out.

A few minutes later, Oikawa was settling down, lying on the floor unmoving, staring at your words on his screen. Then, the device was ringing, Iwaizumi calling via FaceTime.

"You hang up on me," was Iwa's accusation and greeting, all grumpy and hoarse.

"No, I didn't! My spending limit was reached," Oikawa explained calmly.

A beat and then Iwaizumi was laughing on the other side. "So you spent how many million yen to call and laugh?"

Oikawa felt himself go red in embarassment. Indignant, he replied, "I was happy Yuki replied!"

Calming himself down, Iwaizumi muttered, "alright, alright" before clearing his throat. Then, in a more firm voice, "What did she say?"

"Like I'd tell you after you just laughed at my financial misery," Oikawa grumbled.

He heard Iwaizumi sigh. "Oikawa, just tell me. I'd even pay half of the bill if you do."

"You will?" Oikawa asked, bright and chirpy real quick.

"Hmm," Iwaizumi hummed. "Depends on what Yuki said."

Oikawa groaned, rolling his eyes. "You guys are so mean to me."

"You make it so easy, Oikawa."

Oikawa imitated Iwaizumi's line in a petulant way, throwing the two of them in a fit again. They quickly sobered up, and Oikawa took a deep breath before reciting your reply.

"Stop the emojis. They're obnoxious. And stop texting me. You're in another side of the world for ducks sake, Tooru," he finished. "Do you think she misspelled the f-word or it was on purpose?"

"Definitely on purpose," Iwaizumi answered without pause.

Oikawa shrugged, actions justified now that Iwa could see. "Well, it was worth asking," he mumbled.

They were both quiet, before Iwaizumi was groaning loudly over the phone.

"God, Oikawa, I miss her so bad."

"I know, Iwa-chan," Oikawa soothed. "I'm a god, after all."

Iwaizumi snorted. "Definitely obnoxious."

Oikawa cried in protest. "I am not obnoxious! I'm just awesome and you're all envious!"

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say."

They were both quiet before Oikawa was sighing, sadness bubbling up at how badly he misses you. "That's so like her, though..."

Iwa nodded, smiling a little. "It is."

"We'll get her back, right?"

They stared at each other, two men sharing in the same agony from your absence. Oikawa's eyes burned with hope beneath the sadness. Iwa's burned with determination beneath the regrets.

Then, at the same time, they both said, "We will."

And then, they laughed.

Because what else were they supposed to do with their misery when they're miles away without you?


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iwa stopped breathing.

The loud, high-pitched cry of 'Iwa-chaaaaan!' rang in the large expanse of the arrival area of the airport. Iwaizumi thanked all his stars he decided to wear a face mask and a cap when he went out to pick up Oikawa. As suspicious as he may have looked, he didn't care. At the very least, the only thing the people staring at Oikawa's grand entrance will remember was the name 'Iwa-chan' and nothing else.

"Shut up, Trashykawa," he greeted.

Oikawa shamelessly hooked his arm with Iwaizumi's, giggling like a fifteen year old, as he waved goodbye to his laughing teammates. Iwa wanted to bash his head on the nearest wall, or maybe throw Oikawa back to wherever part of Europe he came from.

"I know you missed me, Iwa-chan!" Oikawa said haughtily. "After all, I'm the only one who willingly hangs out with you with less judgement."

Iwa sighed, his annoyance replaced with guilt, because Oikawa's words were true. But he didn't need a verbal reminder of his poor, for some, even strained, relationship with his family and friends after what he's done. One look in the mirror was enough for that.

"I'm sure Makki will come around soon," Oikawa rushed, sensing Iwa's immediate withdrawal.

He shook his head, smirking. "We both know he'd rather bury me six feet underground for what I did. Matsukawa will probably help."

Oikawa turned to him with a dark glint in his eyes, a blatant contrast to the smile plastered on his lips.

"You too, of course."

The only reply he got was Oikawa's boisterous laughter, before he bounded off to Iwaizumi's car, leaving his suitcase for Iwaizumi to lug around.

'You cleaned up well' was Oikawa's first comment as he looked around the apartment.

Iwaizumi scratched the back of his head, shrugging. "I have time."

Oikawa only nodded, Iwaizumi noting the raised eyebrow but kept quiet. Iwaizumi watched as he proceeded to the refrigerator, probably to get a drink as he kept on whining in the car how thirsty he was. A loud gasp escaped his mouth, probably at the sight of the contents of the fridge, or maybe its lack of contents. Iwa just shrugged, taking a bottle of Pocari for himself, downing half of it.

"Are you even eating?" Oikawa asked, anger and pain evident in his voice.

Iwaizumi pursed his lips, keeping his mouth shut. He watched Oikawa snatch a bottled water, before slamming the refrigerator shut. The appliance shook at the force of it, but Iwa remained mum.

Oikawa sighed, shaking his head as he stared at Iwaizumi long and hard. "Don't think we don't notice your drastic weight loss, Iwa-chan..."

"I just don't have the appetite, Oikawa."

Oikawa's eyes flared. "Oh yeah? Well, sorry to bust your ass but the starving look don't fit your image."

Iwaizumi snorted but stopped as Oikawa glared daggers at him. They stared at each other, Iwaizumi trying to stop the laughter pouring out of him because of Oikawa's words, while Oikawa was still staring daggers. Oikawa's lips lifted to the side, his composure cracking. Iwa burst out laughing, Oikawa joining a second later.

When Oikawa sobered up, he faced Iwaizumi, his lips set in a tight line. "But seriously, Iwa-chan. Please don't make me worry about you too. I'm stressed enough as it is with Yuki!"

Iwa sighed, nodding at Oikawa's words. "Mom also said the same," he muttered.

"It’s not that difficult to see, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said solemnly. Shaking his head, he steered away from the topic. “Does Yuki contact them?" he wondered, immediately picking up that Iwa meant your mom, not his birth mother.

"At least, that's what I think. I couldn't really ask since…" Iwa replied, his whole body slumping in defeat.

Oikawa simply nodded in understanding. "That aside, any idea where she is?"

Iwa shook his head. "I already went around the places we used to hang out to," Iwa replied. "Even went back to Miyagi for a week and tried searching with Mattsun, but she wasn't there. Nobody has seen or heard from her."

"Well," Oikawa said, sitting down exaggeratedly on the couch and patted the seat beside him for Iwa. "It's time to use my secret weapon!" Oikawa exclaimed before whipping out his phone, grinning wide.

Iwa, for all its worth, felt alive once again, as though Oikawa's words injected all the hope in the world in his bloodstream. It was a risk he dared to take every day for eight months now and for all the days he has yet to live, dedicated in leaving a voice mail once a day, praying to all the gods that one day, you'd reply. At first, they were all sorrys and begging and telling you how badly he fucked up. And then, when his voicemails resumed getting through, he decided to tell you about his day, the neighbor and his loud metal rock, the plants you had in the balcony, the renovation on the park you liked hanging out to.

His luck seemed to run out since there was still none from you.

With Oikawa, maybe, just maybe, you'd answer. You already did. Once. Knowing how much you adore Oikawa (he was your favorite, after all, no matter how much you lie), Iwaizumi hoped that little extra affection you had for him gave him much higher chances of you responding.

"Let's hope she doesn't ignore me, alright?" Oikawa mumbled, looking pale and hesitant despite his initial bravado.

Iwa could only nod, palms shaky and sweaty with anxious hopefulness. He started praying to all the gods he knew in every religion he was familiar with, because maybe, one of them would take pity on him and make you answer Oikawa's call.

On the first try, Oikawa's fingers were shaky enough to press the wrong number, accidentally calling his own mother. You were registered as My Wife on his contacts, much to Iwaizumi's chagrin.

_"Beggars can't be choosers, Iwa-chan!"_

Oikawa listened with absolutely zero interest while his mom took a good fifteen minutes of talking his son's ear off about not coming straight home from the airport. At Iwaizumi's kind interruption, his mother changed mood so quickly Oikawa had to roll his eyes, because despite Iwa's recent misgivings, he was still Oikawa's mother's favorite. Oikawa's only consolation was that his mom made Iwa sit in _seiza_ every time he was in her presence, because 'he had to realize his mistakes' (which was good because his mother always drops by unannounced to Iwa's apartment, at Oikawa's request mostly, to mostly check on Iwa).

On the second try, Oikawa succeeded in pressing the right number, but it went to voicemail after ringing. They both sighed, one with impatience, one with despair.

On the third try, they both jumped at the click after the fifth ring, and then a child's voice rang out the apartment from Oikawa's phone.

Oikawa screamed.

Iwa froze.

_"Hello?"_

Oikawa was the first to recover. Quickly, he snatched the phone off the table, grasping it in his hands, staring at it like it came from aliens.

Iwaizumi remained frozen in his seat.

It felt like every fiber of his being stopped, except for the loud beating of his heart which he can hear loud and clear.

A thud and a loud static.

Then, it was your voice coming from the speakers.

Oikawa screamed.

Iwa stopped breathing.

"Oh fuck!" The curse loudly bounced off the walls. "Ren!"

And then a beep.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "See," Sanae called out at your retreating back. "Running away."

One written apology and a dozen explanations later, you let out a sigh, zombie-walking to slump down on the couch of Sanae-san's living room.

She smiled, the way elders always smiled as she offered tea as comfort to your misery.

"That was exhausting," you grumbled.

As much as you love to hear from Oikawa again, you weren't ready. Just the fact that Ren, a child from the daycare center, answered your phone, gave you so much fright you almost, _almost_ , jumped on the next train ride to who knows where just like before.

You took Ren to your place, since his parents asked you to take care of him after the daycare hours to attend to some family emergency. You agreed, simply because you had nothing else to do anyway and you adored the kid.

It was just sheer luck and coincidence that the moment you decided to go to the bathroom was the moment Oikawa chose to ring your number.

_Guess he's back home, huh…_

Shaking your head out of your thoughts, you whipped the blasted phone out, typing quickly.

_Don't look for the location of this number. And welcome home, Tooru._

You were just about to turn it off when it vibrated, screen flashing with Tooru's reply.

 _But I miss you so baaaaad (_ _｡_ _•́_ _︿_ _•̀_ _｡_ _)_

 _Don't you miss me???? (_ _◍_ _•_ _ᴗ_ _•_ _◍_ _)_ _✧_ _*_ _。_

"I haven't seen you smile like that since you came here."

You looked up just in time to catch Sanae's raised eyebrow, before soft chuckles came from her lips. You blushed, quickly putting away the phone as you gathered your bearings.

"Yeah, well," you grimaced, shaking your head to shoo the thoughts away. "It's nothing," you finished.

"I'm sure people back home misses you," she mused.

You chuckled. "For someone old, you sure seem sharp, Sanae-san…"

"Knowledge comes with age, Yuki. Years accumulate, along with what you understand in this world."

Pursing your lips, you nodded. "I'd love to reach your age and still be as lively. Can't wait to torment the young ones," you joked.

The old woman chuckled, pausing to take a sip of tea as she regarded you with knowing eyes. "I'm sure you will, if you stopped running away from whatever is chasing you, my dear Yuki."

You opened your mouth to protest, but closed it just as quickly when Sanae raised an eyebrow in challenge. You rolled your eyes before standing up, declaring to cook dinner, effectively running away from her mind games.

"See," Sanae called out at your retreating back. "Running away."

"I'm burning your portion!" was your parting shot before you disappeared from her sight, her laughter following you through the hall and into the kitchen.

Of course, you wouldn't really burn your landlord's portion. It was free dinner, anyway. You weren't that ungrateful no matter how much she pushed your buttons.

Sanae-san was a good woman, someone you already greatly admire even in just a short while of staying with her. Highly charismatic and charming, almost everyone in town knew who Sanae Mizuku was. Armed with quick eyes, high intelligence and intuition, she can easily deduce things just by looking at a person.

Which, she totally applied to you when you stumbled on her store.

It was both jarring and amazing, when she admitted, over one casual dinner where you shared a couple bottles of sake, what she thought your life story was. You were definitely spooked at how close it was that goosebumps appeared, but you quickly sobered up when she said, 'I was just the same as you, then…' before recounting her own life story.

In the end, you gained a company for your misery, a tormentor for said misery, and a teacher in life.

But you still weren't up to follow her teachings just yet.

As you laid in bed that night, exhausted from tossing and turning, because sleep was very elusive for some reason.

A big fat lie, really.

The reason was right there, right between your fingers.

Throwing the blankets off, you leaned back on the headboard, the light from the screen blinding you for a second as you squint to get used to it. Fingers hovering over the screen, you took a very deep breath before letting muscle memory takeover.

It didn't even occur to you what ungodly hour it was, as you hear a click followed by a loud whine.

"Tooru."

You paused before exhaling the breath you were holding, waiting as dead silence can only be heard from the other side.

Your ears reached the sound of covers rustling before Oikawa was screaming so much you had to pull the phone away from your ears. Minutes pass and he was still screaming his head off.

"Tooru, calm down," you chided.

" _Calm down?!_ " Oikawa screeched despite his heavy breathing. "You bitch! Don't tell me to calm down! I just- you're here! You called!" He paused, taking a loud inhale before some switched in him turned on and he was ranting at rapid fire speed you barely caught the words he was saying (screaming).

You listened with rapt attention and profound fondness, feeding your longing with Tooru's dramatics. It was something you definitely missed, but would never admit so because his ego was big enough as it was. Your cheeks hurt from the smile plastered on your face for minutes now, but you couldn't take it off, as if your life depended on it.

When Oikawa paused to catch his breath, you giggled, quite breathless from barely suppressed joy. "You okay, Tooru?"

"Yeah," Oikawa mumbled, still quite breathless. "Just let me catch my breath. One sec-"

The sound of loud coughing replaced his heavy breathing.

You couldn't hold it anymore.

You cracked up, knew nothing could've stopped the laughter that toppled you over to your side. You laughed so hard at Tooru's idiocy and misery, at the relief of having your best friend back. You were busy clutching your sides and wiping tears from your eyes.

It took a while for you to settle down, minutes after Tooru finished his coughing fit. He was already grumbling and whining, throwing what you knew was a grand tantrum on the other side.

"I miss you, Tooru," you admitted, voice shaky and breathless. You swallowed, clearing your throat as you forced the words out. "I miss you so bad, it hurts…"

And then, you were crying.

Hearing Tooru's voice must've broken the gates you locked your emotions in, because for the first time in months, you cried as you let yourself feel all that you buried deep inside you, all that you forced yourself to take and swallow, all that you tried to ignore and forget.

Tooru was everything, bundled into one lanky and tall mass of bones and muscles.

Bestfriend. Brother. Confidant. Partner-in-crime. Other half.

"It's alright," Tooru whispered softly. "I'm here now. We're here now."

Right before the break of dawn, your tears and Tooru's soothing words lulled you to sleep, one peaceful and deep, a first since the night you left home.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How did you know crab and corn’s her favorite?”

Catching up with Oikawa Tooru is quite an experience, really. It’s a task that is highly amusing, eye-roll inducing, and utterly exhausting. Still, you soaked up every second of it like a new sponge fresh out of its wrapper.

It was a good thing the next day was a weekend. You had the days all to yourself, spent however you wanted. Tooru definitely took advantage of that, calling and texting every chance he got that you stayed in bed all day, only getting up for necessities. With even that taking up less than how long you really take, like eating for only ten minutes, Tooru whines. Honestly, it felt like you had an infant to take care of. A short while before bed, you gave in to the video call he requested. Taking pleasure in his ugly crying face, because truth be told Oikawa Tooru is an ugly crier, you watched him bawl his eyes out and reduce himself to hiccups by the end of it.

“I’m going to hold this over Iwa-chan’s head forever,” he declared haughtily.

“Please don’t,” you chastised, for reasons too many.

He squinted his eyes suspiciously. “What’s this tough love vibes I’m getting?”

“It’s complicated enough as it is, Tooru.”

He gasped loudly, eyes flashing. “It won’t be as much, if you didn’t run away!”

You held your lips shut.

You understood where Tooru was coming. Really, you did. Tooru was sensitive and overprotective to the people he cares about. You could only guess how difficult it must be for him, having to choose who to protect between two of the closest people in his heart after hurting each other. But you didn’t want him, and all the other people you cared about, to choose between you and Iwa. Your lives, and therefore the circle of people you interact with, are so closely intertwined after years of being together. More than that, though, walking away that day felt like the absolute, right thing to do for yourself, as selfish as it might have been. Tooru simply loves and cares, too much sometimes, for even his own good.

You knew, but that didn’t stop the acid burn you felt in the pit of your stomach. Because for all its worth, you hoped that out of everyone else, Tooru would know better. Your eyesight just turned bleary with tears, when Tooru sighed, and you knew him well enough to know that he just exhaled whatever he was feeling out of his system.

“I’m sorry. I know it must’ve hurt a lot.”

You smiled, swallowing down the bitterness rising up your throat seconds ago.

Oikawa glared jokingly. “You can tell me I was being a bitch. Go on,” he encouraged, eliciting laughter out of you.

“You are,” you obeyed, “But you already know that. I don’t like slapping other’s misgivings to their faces.”

It was meant to be a jibe, because that was how it has always been with Tooru, but the silence that bloomed after the words got out of your mouth confused you.

“Tooru?”

He pursed his lips, head turned to the side. “I know, and that must be why you left. Iwa told us as much, Yuki.”

His words established in your head and in your heart that Tooru must’ve been taking things too hard, must’ve been having a difficult time _because of you_.

The realizations that followed felt like sucker punches in your gut, and you visibly trembled at the force. You blinked, and suddenly, they were there. Swimming in tidal waves in your head, wave after wave, splash after splash, threatening to take you under and drown. Realizations that shook you to the core. Realizations that you didn’t want to think about _now_.

“Tooru, I’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling choked up and strangled.

You must’ve looked pretty bad, even on screen, because Tooru was calling, shouting your name over the device. The sounds were barely forming in your head, unable to penetrate the ocean of thoughts. A part of you knows, _aware_ , you were gasping, clutching and thumping and clawing at your chest to steady the heavy drumming in your chest that is anchoring you. The little voice in your head called it, _a panic attack_. Aware of what it was called didn’t help at all, that little consciousness quickly swallowed by bigger waves until there was light flooding your room, then hands were on your shoulder, in your face, in your head.

There was a blurry face in front of you, a voice garbled and high. You blinked, trying hard to listen to the words, the voice, but everything was harder, to blink, to breathe, and to think.

When you came to, the room was already bright, noting it was late in the morning since only the edge of the sun was visible through the window. You spent a good five minutes gathering your bearings as last night’s events played in your head, glad to have the oppressive thoughts in bay now that you were looking at them from behind the glass inside your head.

Downstairs, the smell of crab and corn soup floated through the air, your body responding by the loud growl of your stomach. Right as you turned the corner of the kitchen, you stopped and did a double take at the sight in front of you. Sanae was standing by the stove, hand busy with stirring, while her head is turned on the phone perched at the dish rack, Tooru’s face occupying majority of the screen.

“How did you know crab and corn’s her favorite?”

Sanae smirked, her head turning up just the slightest. “I have my ways,” she answered, in that vague way of hers to some, clear to others more familiar to the woman.

You cleared your throat loudly, announcing your presence to them. “Good morning,” you greeted.

“It’s noon,” the woman noted.

You rolled your eyes, mumbling ‘good whatever’ under your breath.

“Is she up?” Tooru inquired. While there’s a lift in his tone, you noted the underlying worry buried in his words.

“Hey, Tooru,” you greeted, standing behind Sanae to give Tooru a little wave.

“How are you feeling?” Sanae asked, her eyes following you as you fetched a glass of water and drank.

“Sorry about last night,” you mumbled.

“I’ll take that as a thank you,” she smarted. “If you’re well enough on your feet, go set up the table.”

You followed as instructed, listening to the two of them go back to whatever they were talking about. It didn’t even bother you how quickly the two came to speaking terms, let alone do video call with each other. Maybe the _how_ did, but knowing the two of them, with mutual wit and sharpness and a little too much confidence, you just knew they were going to click. Even hoped to introduce them to each other, knowing how much fun they were going to have with each other, probably roast each other to obliteration.

Lunch went by with easy conversation between the three of you, talking and laughing like old friends. As you leaned back in your seat, watching Sanae tease Tooru for crying over _Kimi no Na wa_ (you did too, but you weren’t gonna tell Sanae that), you smiled, heart swelling with affection, feeling satisfied in more ways than one.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey, Iwa.”

After the whole panic attack fiasco, Tooru did his best in touching only the lighter topics, switching between each of your days, exchanging stories and happenings, catching up, gossiping and other nonsensical stuff that matters when you’re friends with an Oikawa Tooru.

His effort was greatly appreciated.

Not only because it was inconvenient to pass out for half a day, but also because you weren’t ready to face the demons lurking behind your own shadow.

Weeks has passed, before he snapped.

“Should I be worried about this Ryuujin character?”

It was an ambush, a bomb thrown by Tooru from miles away.

You froze, backtracking on your day, on your interactions and conversations with Tooru, wondering where and how he knew of Ryuujin. Not like you were _hiding_ something. You just knew Tooru well enough to know how badly this could get depending on your answer.

There was none. You never really brought the name up in conversation, let alone found any significance for it to come up since there was really nothing to that name.

“How do you know him?” you queried, sounding more confused than you intended to.

Wagging a finger in front of the camera, Tooru pouted. “Don’t answer a question with another question. You know better than to pull that on me.”

“I never told you about him, so why do you know him?”

Tooru flicked his hand. “Let’s just say a little birdie told me.”

You rolled your eyes, because it didn’t take too many brain cells to figure out Sanae was the little birdie he claimed.

“I don’t want to arrange divorce papers!” was Oikawa’s scandalous outcry, all indignant and hurt.

“Tooru,” you called, sagging in your seat. “That’s not what it means. Ryuujin is just an acquaintance, a relative of a kid from daycare. Besides, you know I legally can’t,” you added the last bit in a whisper.

That was meant to calm him, even just a little bit, but of course, Tooru never failed to surprise you.

“Even if you legally can, you can’t!”

You sighed, looking up at the ceiling for some patience and guidance, preferably from some divine entity because you physically can’t smack Tooru in the back of his head and you mentally can’t bear to answer his groundbreaking inquiries. Honesty always suited Tooru, so you did just that.

“Trust me, Tooru, I haven’t thought that far ahead,” you replied, meaning every word of it.

Tooru exhaled long and loud, a sign that he’s releasing the fight from his system. His eyes still looked glazed over, the slight tilt of his lips telling you he was still upset.

You pursed your lips, contemplating your next words. “If it makes you feel better, he’s not my type.”

It took a few good seconds before Tooru’s lips twitched, slowly lifting into a mischievous smile he couldn’t hold back. He knew well the type of guys that make you fall and swoon. He was the resident third-wheel in your relationship after all. Listened for years about your useless crushes since middle school. Listened to your seemingly endless pining for Hajime for ‘ _eight long years_ ’ before the both of you had the guts to do something about the ‘ _humungous sexual tension suffocating everyone in the room_ ’ as Tooru eloquently put it, with Hanamaki and Matsukawa yelling their assent in the background.

“Isn’t that _lovely_ to hear?” Oikawa exclaimed awfully sweet, unnecessarily highlighting the word ‘ _lovely’_ , making you roll your eyes so hard you saw white for a split second. Typical Oikawa Tooru.

“How’s Makki and Mattsun?” you asked, their names hanging in the back of your mind since you remembered them.

“Makki’s still pulling the 'Iwaizumi Hajime is dead' act, ever since you left,” Tooru grumbled. “Mattsun’s still Mattsun.”

You snorted, feeling your heart swell at Makki’s actions. “That’s so like him,” you commented.

“Tell me about it. I’m literally dying every time we see each other. I don’t even know whether to laugh or to hit him or Iwa-chan in the head. Can you imagine? Good god, it’s so horrible and painful but hella funny. And don’t get me started on Mattsun!”

Oikawa was ranting, bubbling on about how Makki slipped one time they were eating dinner and accidentally asked Iwa to pass him the ketchup.

“We all froze at the table, literally, because it’s been months and he was doing perfectly fine, but then he goes, “Hey Iwa, pass the ketchup,” Oikawa recounted, doing a very close impersonation of Makki’s gritty voice (which you really love listening to). “Iwa was frozen like a statue, then Mattsun goes ‘Iwa, the ketchup. Makki needs the ketchup” before he snorted so loud I couldn’t hold it anymore. Makki was so red in the face, and when Iwa handed him the tub, he couldn’t even look anyone in the eye. Even Iwa cracked a little smile before Makki threw fries in his face, mumbling “You’re all dead to me,” then proceeded to devour his cheeseburger so obnoxiously it was so annoying!”

You were laughing by the end of his story, snorting at him for calling another person obnoxious. Hanamaki and Matsukawa are like older brothers to you, both laidback and cool but in their own different ways. Hanamaki’s playful, always down for anything and everything. Matsukawa is surprisingly more mature than anyone else in the group, prefers to listen and watch the fun, but actively participates when it comes to Tooru.

“I miss them too,” you mumbled.

He grunted in reply. “Give them a call. Makki’s bugging me ever since he found out. Mattsun too, even though he’s not openly asking,” he shivered before adding, “probably preparing some blackmail to use.”

“I might hold out on calling them just to see that,” you teased. You were open to the idea of calling the two since you missed them too, actually contemplating to do so ever since you started communicating with Tooru again. You ignored the little demon in your head that said Iwa’s name.

You knew they were feeling the aftershocks of your quick exit, aware that the relationship didn’t just stop between you and Iwa. They were very much invested and very much involved, so your actions definitely affected them. Maybe much more than they really let on. Besides, you were friends even before things progressed with Iwa.

“You’re so mean!” Oikawa whined. Then, with pleading eyes, he added, “Iwa too?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but your throat stopped working, so you closed it again. He was about to say something else, when a voice that made your heart stutter floated through the speakers.

_“Oikawa, dinner’s ready.”_

Tooru grinned widely, eyes sparkling evilly. Before you could even react or get a word out, he spoke.

“Iwa-chan,” he called. “Yuki says hi.”

His words rang out in your head again, louder and firmer than when he said it.

_“Iwa too?”_

A grunt and then it was his voice again. “Stop being an ass, Trashykawa.”

“I’m not, Iwa-chan.”

To hell with it.

“Hey, Iwa.”

Within seconds, the video feed was in a mess, the camera pointing somewhere dark.

“I’m totally sending this picture to Mattsun,” Oikawa mused, snickering as he stared at his phone’s screen.

Suddenly, the video feed was in a mess again before a familiar ceiling came to view, the sound of grunts, thuds, and Tooru’s shrieks ringing out from the speakers. The image of Tooru getting tackled to the floor by Iwa conjured itself quickly and easily in your mind, the scenario playing out like those many times in the past.

“Iwa-chan, you brute!” was Tooru’s shrill cry.

It felt like the old times you spent together, teasing and joking around. Growing old but never growing up when you're with each other.

And there you were, dying with laughter somewhere in the background as Tooru and Iwa continued to wrestle it out.

Just like old times.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He hoped you did, too.

He didn’t feel like sleeping nor eating.

He could barely identify the whirlwind of emotions swirling in his stomach, let alone process whatever Oikawa was yapping on and on about for an hour now. Something soft landed on his lap, and he looked down, finding a still warm and sweaty shirt. He frowned, flicking the shirt away from him but made no move for more. He could feel Oikawa’s eyes on him, an occurrence that’s more normal than before nowadays.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa called.

Iwa looked up, yet his eyes remained glazed over, looking at something very far and very bright. It awfully looked like your laughing face he saw on the screen of Oikawa’s phone three days ago. This, and the fact that memories of and with you kept playing in his head like a movie, only in fast forward at how quick they flash in his eyes.

_“Hey, Iwa.”_

It was simple. Two words. Six letters. Something so casual and inane.

Like that time you approached him back in middle school to talk about a science homework Oikawa forgot because he was fully occupied with his training.

_“Don’t tell him it’s mine,” you whispered._

_He scrunched his eyebrows together, confused. “Why?”_

_This time, you avoided his eye contact. “It’s nothing,” you replied, making a move to leave._

_Quickly, he gripped your arm, halting your movements. “Did you guys fight? I swear to God, that Trashykawa!”_

_“No, we didn’t!” you protested. “Tooru didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just- I think he’d accept it more easily if it’s from you.”_

_Iwa stared straight in your eyes, and you stared back, meeting his gaze bravely. He lost, blinking quickly after he got distracted by the specks of gold in your irises. They shone brighter than usual under the light of the setting sun, and his heart…_

_Good god, he felt sick. His heart was suddenly thumping so loud in his chest and in his ears._

_The next day, he realized his mistake. He shouldn’t have gotten distracted, must’ve forced the truth out of you, because the next day, he felt like he received a ball with his stomach as he watched you cry._

_“Hey, Iwa.”_

_He looked up from his crouching position on the ground, glaring at the person daring to interrupt his self-pity time, the wound from losing to Shiratorizawa still fresh and aching. He was home, deciding to come out to the backyard for fresh air. The three of you agreed to meet some time later for a celebration you and Oikawa insisted. For what, he didn’t know, didn’t understand, didn’t bother to think about._

_The voice told him it was you, but your face was blocked by the ice cream cone you were shoving in his face._

_“Why are you here so early?” he grunted, slapping the cone to the side. He stood up, so now you were the one looking up. It made him feel a little happy, the fact that he was now taller than you rather than almost the same. It felt satisfying more than he wanted it to be._

_You shrugged, taking a bite of the cone you were holding. “My Iwa senses were tingling.”_

_Snatching the cone from you, he rolled his eyes. “You shouldn’t spend so much time with Oikawa.”_

_“You jealous?” you quipped. “Don’t worry, you’re still the best ace I know.”_

_He snorted, trying so hard not to smile or jump in the air because that felt_ so damn _uplifting. Not wanting to acknowledge the truth he knew from your words, he said, “That’s a lie, and we both know it.”_

_You weren’t looking at him, looking instead at the tall kaki tree in their backyard, when you replied. “You are, Iwa. You are and always will be.”_

_Like magic, his heart and mind felt so at ease and light, as though your words took all his burden away and replaced it with pride and strength he pulled each game that followed after._

_“Hey, Iwa.”_

_Fresh from college, you went home for the first time in a while to spend time with your family before settling in your work. Giving in to Oikawa’s whims, the five of you agreed to meet for drinks to ‘celebrate your graduation.’ Hanamaki didn’t have any issues, actually getting to hang out with you since he stayed in Miyagi. Oikawa had all the time to be demanding, having all the time to himself since it was off season. Matsukawa and Iwa had to rearrange their time, Mattsun settling for his job in a pharmaceutical company up north and Iwa in his architectural internship in Tokyo. Despite being in the same city, you went to different universities and led separate lives, only meeting a handful of times in a span of five years._

_It was dark, a bit late as you walked side by side on the way home from the local pub famous in town, the trio somewhere up front. Hanamaki was already drunk, belting out pop songs every five minutes. You decided to stay behind, just a few steps back, both to watch the embarrassment unfold and save yourself from it. Oikawa and Matsukawa volunteered to guard him, just a little bit tipsy but enough. And Iwa. He didn’t really have any choice after Oikawa glared at him and told him to be your guard, since you were quite tipsy yourself._

_He prayed to all the gods that the biting cold and the long walk home was enough to sober everyone up into coherence before you reached your own houses._

_Your shoulder was touching his arm, bumping him in each step to avoid the rush of people on your side. It irked him how you were always the one to move out of the way whenever you come across people on your path. Somewhere along the crowded path, he grunted for you to stop apologizing every time you bumped into him, occupied with avoiding the shoulders of people rushing on your side. The only option he had at the moment was that. Grit his teeth, bearing the unnecessary rush of heat from your contact and the loud drumming of his heart. Either that, or let you walk near the road._

_Yeah. Like he’d ever do that._

_He’d rather throw himself under a train than let your clumsy feet take the side._

_He turned, his nose buried further in his scarf. He squinted at the sight his eyes caught. Never one to find neon lights pretty, he thought, for the first time that night, how pretty they actually were, especially when reflected in your face and in your eyes. How the red, highlighted your lips and cheeks. How the blue danced with the gold in your eyes. He thought he saw your lips move, but he failed to hear the words._

_He blinked, humming in question._

_You laughed, throwing your head back._

Beautiful.

_The word exploded in his head, blazing all the way to the tip of his tongue._

_It felt like those stupid slow motion in movies as you turned your head, a smile that stretched your cheeks wide greeting his wild, erratic heart._

_“I like you.”_

_“Hey, Iwa.”_

It felt like a punch to his gut, leaving him breathless and heaving in a split second.

He remembered how much he used to hate that name because he preferred to be called by his full, proper name. Remembered how awful he felt when you stopped calling him that way after fights, petty or otherwise. Remembered how relieved and happy he was when you go back to calling him that way after making up. Remembered so many memories his mind couldn’t fit into the reel or he would’ve spent his whole life looking through the glass.

As he blinked, he remembered, _saw_ and _heard_ in his head even, how you turned and answered when Hanamaki called, _‘Hey, Iwa!’_ two days after your wedding.

He hoped you did, too.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He will make it right once again.

He was stuck.

At first, he was able to go through the motions of his grief, swiftly managing solely on autopilot. Time had no essence for him, used his work deadlines and project accomplishments to go from one point in time to another. He only knew you weren't there, that much was enough for him. He didn't need to know how long it has been or how long it will be.

The shock, guilt and pain pushed him off the ledge the moment he went back to an empty home, sending him spiraling down a black hole that swallowed his entire being, or what was left of him in the aftermath of his actions. There wasn't much left, but it hurt and hurt again and again, the ache and the burn growing as each second passed. He was grateful for Oikawa, for the physical pain he inflicted that served as a reminder that he was still alive, that he was still breathing, because even as he feels his lungs contract and expand, it feels like he wasn't alive anymore. Not with the numbing pain growing in his chest. Not with the hollowness he feels inside.

It felt more like he was detached from his body, from anything physical, like he was looking at the world from somewhere deep inside his head surrounded by the shards of everything he broke. He simply felt nothing.

He still wasn't over his pain and guilt, when anger erupted in his head and in his heart, scalding hot and burning wild. The guilt felt like child's play compared to the anger he felt at himself, at his stupidity, at his worthlessness when it matters, where it matters. Anger solely directed at himself, because no matter how much everything hurts, who else could he blame beside himself? He welcomed the disappointment and anger from others, made him feel better because it hurt, because it was his fault, because he deserved it. After all, he has nothing but these emotions to keep him company.

When desperation came knocking at his door, it became an addition to the cycle he was going through. He now had more options to choose from on what to feel each day.

Get hurt.

Get sad.

Get mad.

Get lonely.

If he was even generous, he’d pick more than one to beat himself up further.

It was exhausting and maddening. Still, he welcomed it, embraced it. Because somewhere deep down inside, past the commotion, the buzz, the blur and the autopilot, he knew he was getting closer to some place better. But this part felt like the longest, the hardest, the cruelest, and the cycle remained, deadlines after deadlines after deadlines.

In the midst of all this, Iwaizumi realized he could do a lot of things, probably because time felt so slow and long, dragging each second until it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

He could fake a smile, a laugh or any resemblance of happiness in his face to appease his family, but he knew, _all of them knew_ , he was still breaking into dust, constantly pounded by the weight of his mistakes and your departure.

He could, so he did.

He could admit and own up to his mistakes in front of everyone, something that lifted a gram of burden off his shoulders in exchange of strained relationships, cold shoulders and awkward silences that weighed tons and tons more.

It was hell.

It was nothing.

He could beg. For you to come back. For you to forgive him. For you to talk to him. For you to reply to any of his messages. For you to tell him you are okay. That you are alive. He could hope for a lot of things, for everything, but even then, that would never be enough to fill the void inside because everything isn't you.

But he could still beg, so he did.

He could change where he worked. He could drown himself with work. He could sleep less. He could skip meals. He could drink. He could skip gatherings. He could beat himself up for the shit he did. He could get angry. He could cry. He could pretend. He could stare at the god damn clock each night and wonder how long he will do that for until it stops ticking.

It does.

Seven months, six days, two hours and thirty-five minutes after you left, but he still stares at it each night because he could pretend, could lie and tell himself it was still seven months, six days, two hours and thirty-five minutes since you left and not much, much more. Then, he could fall asleep with a little smile on his face despite the tears that were left drying on his cheeks.

He does the same with the watch he puts on his wrist.

He could pretend. That everything was fine, that he is sane and functional and human still, when all he ever really wants to be is _nothing_.

He could, so he did.

He was living off the remnants of hope he could grasp inside him when you called.

It was like rain after a drought, like spring after winter, like the warmth of sun after a storm. It was a shock that brought his soul back to life, giving breath to the shell of his being.

It felt like time stopped stopping. In fact, it felt fast, _very fast_ , leaving him in the dust breathless and gasping and grappling for something to anchor him on his feet.

It was everything, _everything_ , he needed to live and fight and hope and dream.

So he held on, to those words and his hopes, gritted his teeth and anchored himself back on solid ground, his breathing even and his head clear.

He will make it right once again.

And once again, he could do all that, with a genuine smile on his face.


	13. Chapter 13

At the arrival of the first annual town festival since you moved, you were expecting yourself to be more at ease with the constant buzz of high-spirited people in town. You were definitely comfortable with the place and with the people now, felt like an actual part of the community after already having spent almost a year with them.

You felt at ease.

You were happy.

Instead, you were frazzled and anxious beyond belief.

Two weeks prior, you were simply distracted. Your mind so far off in the distance you kept bumping and hitting into everything and anything. When people asked, you simply waved them off, saying you haven't been getting enough sleep because of excitement, which was partially true because you really were excited for this year's festival. Half of it, though, you'd rather keep to yourself than go through a multitude of things threatening to topple over what you've built for the past months, no matter how little or insignificant they seemed compared to the gaping hole inside you.

As the people in the town center laughed at your childish excitement, letting you be after gentle reminders to be careful and to not drink coffee anytime soon, Sanae was an entirely different case. You couldn't really hide anything from the elder. She was sharper than any knife in the world, and you were too much of an open book to properly fool the wise woman.

After accidentally cutting your finger while preparing the ingredients for the hotpot for tomorrow's festival, she only sighed, bent down the sink to get the first aid kit, before pointing you to the chair by the kitchen table. Her silent commands were much scarier than worded ones, so within minutes, you were seated nice and tight on the chair, the cut already cleaned and bandaged.

"I noticed you haven't been yourself lately."

You pursed your lips together, contemplating on whether you would take the bite or not.

"I don't mean to pry, Yuki, but I'm worried," she sighed, sounding defeated and so like her age it frightened you. The woman was so headstrong, it sometimes made you forget her age.

Guilty, you bowed your head. "I'm sorry."

"Will you tell me or will I have to guess?"

It was your turn to sigh this time. Exhausted, you ran a hand through your hair, pulling slightly as you swallowed past the lump in your throat. "It’s just something silly, really,” you shrugged, trying your best to wave it off.

The woman only nodded, waited for you to go on.

"Our anniversary is coming up," you finished, sagging in your seat.

It wasn’t much of a big deal considering your current situation. _It shouldn’t be_ , was your indignant thought, trying your best to quell the cycle of butterflies erupting in the pit of your stomach before getting burned in the acid of pain washing down your throat. Butterflies, then acid. Repeat. It’s the little things, the memories you tried your best to suppress coming to the surface out of nowhere, the everyday things, sceneries and actions that all seem to point and lead to one person, and one person alone.

But the pain was there.

All evident and raw and aching with the constant constriction in your throat and chest, the sudden urge to curl into your own body and weep, the shots of numbness fuelling you to function as normal as possible.

As much as you wanted to brush it off, it was impossible to change what felt like second nature to you. Breathed and lived for. What felt like the sole reason of your existence.

Loving Iwaizumi Hajime is exactly that. Second nature. Reason to breathe, live and simply exist.

After all these months, yet you were still stupidly, helplessly, completely in love with him.

All evident and raw and aching with the warmth blooming in your chest in the middle of the day out of nowhere, the tic in your leg urging you to run as quickly as possible back into his arms, the twitch in your hands trying to reach for a hand to fill the spaces between your fingers.

You were drowning in a sea of maybes and perhaps and could bes.

You cleared your throat, struggling to get your voice to work again.

It was a failure, and then you were sobbing, tears coming one after another, shaking with the effort to breathe between the hiccups and sobs wracking your body. Sanae remained in her seat, offering a small smile as she reached for your hand, listening to you cry.

When you woke up, it was with red, swollen eyes, a stiff neck and backache. Sanae was already banging around the kitchen when you came to, the morning sun filling the area with soft and warm light. With stiff movements, you stretched, feeling positively better than how you did last night.

"Bottling everything up meant exploding in a day or two," was Sanae's replacement for 'good morning'.

Going to the sink, you rinsed and washed the night away. After downing a glass of water, you paused at your reflection in the mirror. "I look like I have the worst hangover ever," you mused.

Sanae chuckled, clearly amused at your current state. "I'm certain you'd want to stay in, so I'd leave your portion in the fridge. I'll throw you out if I see this when I come back."

You rolled your eyes, but still felt the warmth from the woman so you strode to her side, wrapping your arms around her thin frame. "Thank you, Sanae-san."

As she pushed you away with a scoff, you snickered because the only weakness you could poke at the woman was her shyness towards skinship, which you were quite skilled at (try being friends with Tooru, you'll know). At the reminder, you sobered up, proceeding to eat breakfast to start your day of moping and solitude.

Your day of solitude was going smoothly until there was loud banging on the front door, loud enough to surprise you all the way up to your room on the second floor. Yelling 'one sec!" to the person outside, you ran towards the window, peeking to look who ruined your pity party.

"Yuki-sensei!" was Ren and Sumi's enthusiastic greeting as they looked up at you.

“Let’s go to the festival!” Ren yelled. “Nii-san said we can get candied apples!”

“Please, Yuki-sensei!” was Sumi’s follow-up.

You couldn't really find it in you to be angry at kids, _you just didn't have it in you_ , so you tried to match their grins, waving at them. When your eyes moved behind the kids, you saw Ren's oldest brother, Ryuuji, quite the age gap between the siblings really, looking to his left with a hint of red on his face.

"Oh shoot!" You cried, moving away from the window like it was on fire. Looking down at yourself, you smacked your own head, feeling the second-hand embarrassment from your current almost state of undress. _Because really, a tank top? What are you, 18?_

In your defense, you weren't expecting any company at all, and it was the peak of summer.

Clearing your throat, you peeked your head, only your head, below. "I'll meet you guys at the square in twenty!"

Ren and Sumi whined in protest, but Ryuuji was already tugging them away, bowing politely before scampering away with two whining kids in each hand.

You sighed in defeat, knowing there was no turning down Ren and Sumi's invitation without going through unreasonable amount of tears, snot and pinky promises to make it up to them next time. Your only consolation was that your eyes were significantly less swollen than this morning.

Walking to the town square didn't come with a fair share of bumping into people. The entrance was packed, making the whole place difficult to navigate. You struggled, only able to relax when you reached the center that was much more spacious and less filled with people. Still, it was difficult to find one adult and two kids among hundreds of people milling about. Thank heavens, Ryuuji was ridiculously tall.

They have yet to spot you walking towards them, all three of them engaged with a group of people whose backs were on you. You were so focused on Ren's animated face as he talked, that when the man stood from his hunches, you felt your breath get knocked out of your lungs, halting you in your steps.

Ren was the first to spot you, squealing in delight as he ran towards you. He pulled on your hand, dragging you to the group as he talked too fast, pausing only to catch his breath before continuing on his tirade.

In a far corner somewhere in your head, you could hear Ryuuji mumbling about something, mouthing off one name after another, the words jumbled and bouncing in your head like it's filled with water and sound just can't pierce through.

As Ryuuji waved a hand to the man in front of you, you felt your heart stutter before exploding into a tiny million pieces as you called,

"Makki?"


	14. Chapter 14

When Matsukawa called Oikawa and invited him for dinner and drinks, he didn't feel the need to ask questions other than the time and place. Since hanging out with the four of them proved to be quite challenging, both because it was hilarious and miserable, Oikawa figured dividing his time between Iwa and Mattsun and Makki was the best he could do. Oikawa should've asked really, because he would've been much more prepared for the aftermath.

As he entered the premises, Oikawa easily spotted Matsukawa because of his enthusiastic waving.

"Oikawa, over here!" Mattsun shouted, disturbing the comfortable silence over the place. Oikawa felt himself flush, glaring at Mattsun as he walked towards their table. Mattsun, apparently, never grew up from being an ass since high school.

Oikawa paused when he reached the table, glancing at Makki who was swaying and giggling in his seat. He turned to Mattsun for an explanation, but only received a shrug of shoulders accompanied by Mattsun's majestic eyebrows rising up. Oikawa stepped to his left and drop on the seat beside Mattsun.

"Why is he already drunk?" he demanded under his breath, waving a tentative hand towards Makki who seemed so fascinated with the napkin holder.

Mattsun only winked before taking the cup out of Makki's hands, replacing it with a glass of- Oikawa sniffed- whiskey.

He was about to protest, but Mattsun pressed a hand on his arm, shaking his head.

"What is wrong with you?" he growled, teeth grinding in frustration. "You know how bad of a drunk he is!"

Oikawa always hated Makki's tendency to spit out whatever he was thinking when drunk. Not to mention Makki was a giggling drunk.

Still, it was the reason behind his good arsenal of blackmails against the man. Just for certain circumstances, really.

"You need to hear this," Matsukawa declared, turning to Oikawa with eyes that meant business.

So, with enough curiosity and confusion, Oikawa sat on the table, munching on the food with barely suppressed frustration. He was supposed to accompany Iwaizumi that night, worried the man was still being… whatever. Oikawa stopped trying to label Iwaizumi as something ever since his best friend decided to go autopilot and a zombie replaced the man named Iwaizumi Hajime. It made Oikawa sad, frustrated and angry, more at himself than at Iwaizumi or anyone else, because he is your and Iwa’s _best friend_ yet he still can’t do shit to fix anything between the two of you.

It was close to an hour when Makki started talking.

Starting with a giggle, he pointed at Oikawa, then giggled again as though Oikawa was relatively close to being funny or to be giggled at, when the man he was giggling at was presently glowering at the man in utter frustration.

"I was-" hiccup "-talking to this really, reaaaally, lively kid, you know," Makki began, slurring his words and hiccups interrupting his sentences.

"His name was Ren. Really adorable and lively. And he has a brother. Really tall and good-looking. I say that and I’m a guy, so that’s something. And then," Makki slammed a hand down the table hard, making Oikawa, who was barely listening, Mattsun, and the people behind Makki jump.

Oikawa watched with nervousness as Makki's head rolled to his direction, trying his best to look at Oikawa (or maybe Oikawa's twin, because his eyes focused on the space next to Oikawa). The name Makki mentioned rang in his head, like he knew someone with that name, but couldn’t really tag the name to a face in his brain, so he let it pass. He held his breath to wait, somehow feeling the intensity of Makki's misdirected gaze.

Makki inhaled long and hard, before yelling "She was there!"

Oikawa blinked, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Elbowing Mattsun at his side, he asked, "Who is he talking about?"

Before Mattsun could even open his mouth to reply, Makki, the giggling, secret-spilling drunk, beat him to it.

"Who else, Oikawa? Iwaizumi Yuki!"

Oikawa couldn't even give a damn at the awkward twist of Makki's head at the table as a poor replacement for a bed after he slumped forward on the table, staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the snoring drunk in front of him.

"Mattsun," Oikawa called. "Please tell me he wasn't joking," he asked, practically begging as he tried to swallow past his suddenly very dry throat. His mind was reeling, felt like all the oxygen in his body disappeared, leaving him faint and wobbly. He swayed on his seat, his tight grip on the table the sole reason he hadn’t fallen flat on his butt or his face, whichever way he fell.

"He wasn't," Mattsun obliged.

Oikawa forced his eyes away from Makki, turning to Mattsun with questions and tears swimming in his wide eyes.

Mattsun gave him a small smile before turning serious. “Makki joined a company excursion last month. It was a small town in Onomichi holding their annual town festival. Apparently, it was the hometown of some guy from their office, so the opportunity to unwind came just in time with the festival.”

Oikawa only blinked, still reeling from the bomb Makki dropped on him. Oikawa felt Mattsun's hand thumped his back, before the wide cheshire grin of Mattsun's entered Oikawa's field of vision.

“Yuki was there,” Matsukawa said, exhaling the words like he himself couldn’t believe it. “Makki couldn’t really keep it to himself, so he told me that one time I came over, even when Yuki told him, more like threatened him, not to tell. But Hiro…”

Matsukawa stopped talking, swallowing visibly. Oikawa knew, even without his words, it was enough to hear Mattsun call Makki ‘Hiro’.

"Let's go get our girl back," Mattsun declared.

Oikawa stood up so fast his chair flew backwards and clattered on the floor, and somehow, he and Mattsun found it beyond amusing, chuckling at how incredulous Oikawa is acting, and how crazy the situation is.

Oikawa inhaled, filling his lungs with air that smelled faintly of cigarette, which to his thankful dismay, was disgusting enough to wake his senses up. He grabbed the glass in front of him, ignoring the burn in his throat and downing the entire amber liquid for added courage and life in his veins. With a determined glint in his eye and a confident smile, he turned to Matsukawa.

"Let's get our girl back."


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All I know is that it takes time to heal.

One of the things you least expected to find on Sanae's couch on a Tuesday evening coming home from the town center was a sleeping Oikawa Tooru, limbs splayed everywhere, legs dangling off the end of the couch because he's stupidly tall. His clothes look rumpled and wrinkled, looking like something worn a day ago, judging by the light stubble on his jaw (something really jarring to see on Tooru's face and something he really, _really_ does not want to talk or hear about unless you want murder plotted against you). The sight was… really, you couldn't find any word to describe the sight.

The sleep mask took the icing on the cake.

You glared at the offending object, so much fitting for Oikawa Tooru, but the audacity...

"What is he doing here?" you asked, finally acknowledging Sanae standing by the door.

"You don't seem surprised," the woman said, ignoring your question.

You sighed, flexing your fingers to put some feeling back into them. "I am, along with so many other things all at once I don't even want to think about it. How? Why? When? I can't even feel my legs!"

As soon as the words got out, your knees buckled and you collapse to the floor, finally feeling the tremble and shivers wracking your body.

"I don't know how he knew, but he called me this morning asking how to get here from the station," she said, moving to sit on the sofa. "I figured it wouldn't hurt to answer since he already knew where you are. If he asked around, it'll take a while but he'll still find you."

You pursed your lips, thinking. "It must be Makki!" you exclaimed, pieces clicking in your head. Makki saw you on the day of the festival. You weren't able to hang out for long, just long enough to catch up with each other, not delving into deeper, more sensitive topics. It was really nice to see someone familiar, someone you held dear in your heart but with Tooru's arrival, everything felt too fast and out of control that the happiness from seeing him again is overpowered by layers of many different things. Wasn't it enough that you were already communicating with them again?

Sanae looked clueless at your exclamation, so you explained.

"Remember that guy we met at the festival? The light-haired one. He spills everything in his head when he's drunk," you explained.

"You don't know that," Sanae chastised.

Suddenly, a gruff voice sliced through the air and you turned towards it, finding Tooru sitting up, sleep mask in his hands. "Yuki's right," he mumbled.

"Please tell me you didn't get him drunk on purpose," you pleaded, because no matter how much of a snitch Makki is, you still cared about him. Plus, you won't get your revenge if he's dead, so…

Tooru frowned, blinking as he pulled himself out of the haze of sleep. "It was his and Mattsun's idea."

An eyebrow quirked up at that. "How did Mattsun even know?"

"You know how Makki is," Tooru mumbled. "He tells Mattsun everything because he knows Mattsun's a keeper."

A deep sigh escaped you and you slumped further, almost wishing you can fold yourself over and over until there was nothing left. Still, nothing would change. It was just a matter of time anyway, before any one of them finds you, just like Makki who did simply by pure coincidence. The world is so small after all.

Now, with Tooru here, the world you've built over the past months seemed to halt, its rotation interrupted by a huge wedge from the past. You didn't know how to deal with this interruption, having set your mind to live without them. Thoughts of coming back were, always and without fail, pushed to the back of your mind. It still hurts, and you didn't want to deal with it anymore. As Tooru meets your eyes, you knew he realized that now, something he couldn't through the pixelated screens.

But no, you would not let everything you've worked so hard for go to waste, so you pushed, going through the motions of eating dinner, catching up, and pretending to be normal until you can sleep it off. Unfortunately, Tooru had different plans because before your head even hit the pillow, he spoke the words that burned your self-made peace to ashes.

"Please stop running away."

You swallowed, forcing your eyes close because maybe if you did it hard enough, everything would just disappear.

It didn't, so Tooru kept going.

"Iwa said you left because you didn't want us to choose between the two of you," he continued, voice trembling. You kept your eyes close, even as tears pricked at them. His words felt like vicious scratches on the open wounds in your heart. "But I know, that somewhere inside you just wanted to run away from everything..."

"Is that bad, Tooru?" you asked, sitting up and spitting the words out with a struggle as tears freely fall from your eyes now. "Was it wrong to protect myself?"

"But you didn't have to run away!" Tooru shot back, hurt and anger mixed in his voice.

"What? Did you want me to stay there and wait for him to leave? I’m not a fucking saint, Tooru."

"You know he would never leave you!"

"But he did," you growled, frustration and pain bowling over. You wanted to scream, but was reasonable enough to keep it down for the sake of Sanae and the neighbors, so you grit your teeth, willing yourself to get over the pain through gritted teeth, just like always. "He fucking cheated, Tooru."

"He didn't even have sex with her," was Tooru's idea of salvation.

You didn't know whether to laugh or to cry at his words. Apparently, you could do both because broken laughter escaped your lips even as tears continue to flow down your cheeks. "Was that supposed to reassure me? Should I say thank you?" you snarled, anger exploding in your veins. He had the decency to look sorry for his words, opening and closing his mouth but no words came. Sighing, you shook your head, trying to quell the fire raging inside you. It wasn't his fault. It wasn't right to get mad at him. 

"That's not the only way you can cheat," you whispered, feeling your body deflate as the anger in your veins dissipate to be replaced by raw and raging pain and crippling sadness.

Tooru kept quiet, listening to you weep for the thousandth time for your broken heart. He moved, coming to sit on the bed from his place on the floor, gathering you in his arms. He rubbed at your back with his hand, the other on your hair to soothe you when he was the one to rip the bandages and break you with his words and your buried memories. It took a while before you were reduced to sniffles, eyes emptied of their tears but the pain only seemed to accumulate. Still, you stayed in that position, head leaning on Tooru's shoulder with his arms around you.

"If he asked to leave first, I knew it would've hurt more," you admitted. "It hurt, Tooru. It still hurts because I love him, and-" you inhaled, voice breaking. "and I wasn't enough."

Tooru's hold on you tightened at your admission. "That's not true. You know that's not true," he said, indignant as he held you closer to the point of it being painful. "I've never seen anyone more perfect for each other than you two."

You couldn't help the scoff that followed his childish indignation. He jumped when you pinched his stomach lightly. "You're such a liar. If we were, we wouldn't be here."

"Perfect for each other. Not perfect as human beings," he reiterated.

"You think so highly of us."

He scoffed, pride lacing his voice as he said, "You are my best friends."

"Thanks, Tooru," you replied, hugging him back just as tightly. "I missed you."

"You're so stupid," he grumbled, then with a softer voice he added, "I missed you too. It's so frustrating not to have you there."

"Now you know where to find me."

"It's too far."

"It's not."

"Oh my god! Don't tell me you wanted to go even farther?" he hissed.

"I don't know," you admitted with a shrug. "But I love it here, so I stayed."

Tooru turned quiet at your admission, seemed to contemplate on the thoughts in his head.

"Are you coming back?"

You sighed, pursing your lips. "Honestly? I haven't thought about it, rather I didn't want to think about, so I guess me running away from everything is true. That's the only way I could think of to save myself, you know?" You felt him nod, so you continued. "Right now, I don't know if I'll come back or not because everything still hurts, and I don't want to feel like that all the time."

It took a while before Tooru spoke again after your admission.

"Have you forgiven him?"

Despite the turmoil you feel inside, you smiled. "Maybe, maybe not. I don't know. All I know is that it takes time to heal."

"Do you still love him?"

"Always, Tooru. Always."


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "No. It becomes more meaningful, more alive, when you know."

Tooru had to go back on Friday, leaving you with two days to spend with each other. His schedule was packed, him ranting about Iwaizumi's self-destructing tendencies (you felt like dying as he said this, but you restrained yourself), his schedule for the new volleyball season (he had to go back training in Europe and playing with Argentina). It was basically Oikawa Tooru's life but with an extra added because of your disaster of a relationship with his other best friend.

"You don't have to do anything for us," you told him as you washed the dishes together on Thursday evening. "We can handle ourselves."

"I like to think I'm the one that brought the two of you together, so I guess, a part of me feels responsible…"

You sighed, bumping your hip to his thigh (because goddamn tall people). "You're being stupid. None of this is anyone else's fault but ours. We messed up. That's it. Please don't burden yourself with this."

"You're never a burden."

"We are, and I know that," you affirmed. "But we're adults and if we chose to live the way we do, then that's on us. I know you care a lot. I know I don't show it enough, but I care about you too. It was difficult, those months I didn't have you in my life, but now that I have you, I don't want you to stress over us anymore."

"I want to listen to you, but I can't help it! I want you to get back together!" Tooru whined. In a much softer voice, he asked, "Don't you want to?"

Maybe it was too soft for him to hear, or maybe you didn't really open your mouth to say the words and moving your lips was all in your head, but Tooru didn't reply to your answer.

Tooru demanded a trip the next day, his last day in Onomichi, as he so eloquently announced, so you excused yourself from your work at the town center and they were kind enough to excuse you on such a short notice. Note Tooru's shameless act of puppy dog eyes and _pretty please_.

"Why do you work there? When do you get the time to write your stories if you're out daily?"

"I wanted to get my mind off of what happened when I got here, so I took up volunteer work as much as I can. If I want to get decent sleep at night, I have to be so exhausted I'd be out within seconds of laying down. If I want to function properly, I have to constantly move or else I'll just cry like a pathetic person, which I didn't want to be. By now, I've built a routine that fits my writing and my day job. I got better too, sleeping and eating and all that. There were still bad days, though, but they pass."

You turned to Tooru after your litany, only to find him staring at you with eyes shining brightly with emotion.

"You grew up so fast," he cried, with literal wet tears on his eyes.

It was too early for Tooru's theatrics, so you scrunched your nose at that. "Thanks, mom," you replied, before walking ahead to the quaint café famous around town for its toast and pasta.

Tooru loved the café. And the visit to the shotengai. And the Temple Walk. 

It wasn't even a surprise, but more aggravating, when Tooru, after all the ups and downs of the road, doesn't look one bit exhausted. You, on the other hand, spent days and months navigating the town, but still find your legs strained and your breath short because of cycling.

"We've been here for an hour! Get up already, it's not even that far." Tooru complained.

It was. The museum was at least another ten-minute cycle from the observatory, and after half a day of cycling with an athlete, your feet were killing you. Another ten-minute ride would be suicide.

"I'm not an athlete like you," you snapped.

He seemed to be sorry after that, maintaining his silence as he went around the place to look outside, but looked positively brighter when you stood up and told him you were ready to go again.

Majority of the afternoon was spent on the museum, because despite Tooru's whiny behaviour, he is good in appreciating art. So, you walked around the place, sharing your thoughts on some artworks, purely staring in awe at the others. Hours flew by one art after the other, soaking in history and creativity.

It was time to go when you both felt your stomach grumble, crying for food.

The walk home was silent, the two of you immersed in the view of the setting sun as you towed your bicycles on the side, only to be broken by Tooru's loud gasp.

"It's beautiful."

You looked up, wondering what he was talking about. Following his gaze, your eyes land on a magnificent building, standing tall and magestic with the sky painted in various shades of orange, purple and blue. It was truly breathtaking.

"Want to go in?"

Tooru whipped his head so fast at your words. "We can?"

You grinned, smug as you said, "I have my ways."

By great odds, the caretaker you knew was on-site, so it didn't take long to ask for permission to sneak inside (you could do that, ask for permission to sneak in). Tooru held his breath the whole time, eyes busy imprinting the structure on his memory. You couldn't blame him, because you've been to the place a handful of times and still found yourself breathless every time. Especially now, with the sunset casting soft shades of gold and orange, sneaking in through the shades of green by the surrounding trees. The room feels so ethereal as the glass reflects each and every color the nature provides.

When you thought he had enough of the inside of the place, you asked, "Wanna come up?" and Tooru looked like a kid on Christmas Eve as he nodded his assent. You giggled at the way he was following you but kept his head around.

At the top, Tooru elicited another gasp as he held on to the railing and drank in the view.

"This is amazing," he breathed.

It was. Truly and utterly amazing to highlight nature this way.

"What is this place?"

"It's called the Ribbon Chapel," you answered. "Made to represent the intertwine of people during marriage."

Tooru was able to spare enough time to look away from the view, reached for your hand and squeezed it.

"It's amazing," he said again. "With or without the explanation."

"No. It becomes more meaningful, more alive, when you know."

The color of the sunset was turning more vivid, brighter as the remaining glow of the sun shines its light before the dark. No words seemed fit to capture the whole experience, something real that seemed fictional as much as it was too good to be true.

But this was reality.

And so, with the last remnants of the sun in the sky, you poured your heart out, spilled all that was inside only to be taken away by the waves and by the wind and by the light of the setting sun. With the wind stealing the last words that left your lips, Tooru looked more alive than how he did when he arrived. 

You were certain he wasn't the only one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is! What started this entire story is the Ribbon Chapel in Onomichi. It's so beautiful.
> 
> (Honestly just skimmed some travel blogs about the town. Apologies.)


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hajime."

It felt so foreign to watch concrete towers flash by your eyes, as you sat by the window on the train. What was once normal to you now became as foreign as a stranger in a new country. It soothed you to think of the view on the window on the second floor Sanae's house, with the dots of green and sprawling whites and blues.

You felt so far removed from your body, felt numb with nerves. You thought if it was just possible, you would've thrown up everything inside you because of how tense your stomach muscles were. By now, you didn't bother unclenching your fists as they clutch the fabric of your jacket, relying on them to sip the constant sweat on your hands. You didn't even bother to stop the bouncing of your knee, ignoring the looks from the person sitting in front. You couldn't help it. Your body seemed to be tight as a spring, as though one little squeak would send you springing back to Onomichi, or maybe somewhere far away from Tokyo.

Just for one day, you kept telling yourself.

For the fiftieth anniversary of your publishing house, every author and editor affiliated with the company were invited to celebrate the huge milestone. Ms. Hiroshi, your editor, insisted that your presence was mandatory as a currently blooming author (her words, not yours), going so far as to guilt-tripping you regarding her very generous agreement with your work arrangements. Pulling that card was foul, but highly effective, regardless of the evident benefits you will surely reap by attending such event. 

You were being paranoid. And pathetic. (Sanae gave her piece of mind the moment she heard, yapping on and on about maturity and professionalism.)

And so, you swallowed every complaint you wanted to scream, together with the urge to tie yourself with stones and jump into the ocean.

Twenty-four hours won't mean much, if majority of it will be spent on an exclusive dinner party, was your mantra every time you felt like jumping on the train back to Onomichi.

"Just for one day," you whispered under your breath, standing up from your seat just as the train slowed to a stop.

It took twenty minutes to get Tooru's landlord off your back, after a hundred repeats of 'Yes, I am Oikawa's best friend,' 'No, I don't need anything else,' and 'Yes, I'll be staying just for one day.' Thank god for Tooru's narcissistic tendencies. The photographs on his wall were blessings in disguise. You used to complain about them being too exposed, with majority of them too intimate and wild for public viewing like that one of him smooching your cheek as you laughed one college party years ago when he got drunk off his ass. An embarrasing memory, but nonetheless a very good one. They served as good evidence to back up your statements, and in the end, she handed you the keys and went out the door with less fuss and 

After fixing yourself a light lunch, you went around the place for a bit, cleaning up a little because Tooru's an unrepentant slob. You sent him pictures, some before and after as evidence to his slob crimes. With the time difference, he'll see them hours later, so while he's still snoring the night away in the west, you made yourself as comfortable as you can in his apartment.

Maybe you were too exhausted from the trip, or in handling his slightly neurotic landlord or maybe it was too comfortable in Tooru's king sized bed with the fluffy pillows and comforters, but whatever the case, you were cutting it close to preparing for the night when you woke up. The time on your screen said it was four pm.

You shot out of bed like it was on fire. If you were even a minute late from the meeting time decided by your editor, you were screwed. So, with as much efficiency and speed as you can muster, you went to work.

As you were finishing up on your make up, your phone rang. 

"Hey!" you greeted, at the same time Tooru said, "Holy shit."

You frowned, wondering what he meant by that. "How do I look?"  
  
"I'd marry you if only I was straight," he said, face flat.

You gaped, shocked by his words before your face heated up like a stupid teenager, regardless of his stated preferences. He must've realized the effect of his words because he chuckled. You rolled your eyes, before glaring at him as you focused your attention back on your lips. "You just woke up. Wait 'til your brain fully operates, idiot."

"I am awake," Tooru declared, even as he was blatantly yawning on screen.

"Try again next time," you chided. Why was it so difficult to choose the right shade of red lipstick?

Frustrated, you held up the two tubes.

"Burgundy," was Tooru's immediate reply.

You grinned, before following Tooru's suggestion. 

Once that was done, you leaned back, looking at yourself in the mirror. Dressing up wasn't really your thing, always preferred the comfort of shirts and jeans, but seeing your reflection in the mirror, you realized those gruelling fashion sessions with Tooru were worth it. Tooru seemed to agree because he was busy whistling loudly through the speaker. You were about to tell him off, but the shrill sound of the doorbell rang throughout the apartment, making you jump.

"What the hell," you muttered, forehead creasing. You placed a hand on your chest, trying to soothed the spiked heart rate.

"Is someone at the door?" Tooru asked. "Do you have a date?"

"I don't, but Hiroshi-san's going to pick me up at 6," you answered. The time on your phone said 5:35. "She's awfully early," you noted and Tooru laughed.

"If this is your landlord, I'm ditching your place and book a hotel," you joked as you reached the entryway at the same time the front door swung open. The door smacked your hand as it swung forward, revealing the intruder.

Tooru's words were drowned by the loud ringing in your ears as the world dissolved to tiny particles, sounds flattening to a shrill static. You barely registered the pain on your hand, overtaken by waves of something much more stronger and bigger. Like dying and living at the same time, in each passing second.

With the last breath you held inside you, you whispered, "Hajime."


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Please," he begged. 
> 
> For what, you didn't know. Didn't want to know. Didn't want to care. 

The only thing you could feel at the moment was the twitch in your hand, getting stronger and stronger by each second that pass.

Everything felt like it was on standstill, frozen. Each second felt like one infinity apart from the next. The busy world outside seemingly mountains away from where you stood. 

"Yuki."

It wasn't intentional. Your body flinching like the word was a bullet shot straight at you. You didn't know what face you were making, what emotion or feeling displayed in your features, but at the sight of Hajime's eyes casting down, you knew he didn't miss your actions.

"I-" you stammered, voice coming out garbled. You swallowed, trying to get the tightness in your throat to ease. "What are you doing here?"

You didn't mean for the words to come out sharp, but it was too late as Hajime steps back, somehow finding his shoes to be quite amusing. The movement irked you somehow, and it became evident as your eyes flared as you stared at the man in front of you.

This was never how you wanted to see him again. Always preferred for it to be another way. Definitely not like this. Definitely not tonight.

You huffed out a breath, trying to calm your nerves and compose yourself. As much as you hated this reunion, it's not right to act this way, regardless of how things were between the two of you. So, with as much strength you could muster, you inhaled deep and shoved everything at the back of your mind, before telling yourself to grow up and be an adult.

"I'm sorry," you rushed out. Better do it fast than die in agony. "I'm about to head out, so I'll get out of your way. I'll just get my things."

Without waiting for a response, you hightailed back to the room, leaning behind the closed door while trying to pump your heart back again. You quickly pressed on Tooru's contact. It only took one ring before he was swearing on the other side, "Believe me when I say I don't know any of this!"

You couldn't stop the scream that left your lips as you pushed yourself away from the door, running a hand through your hair as you stormed towards the balcony.

"What the hell is this, Tooru?" you demanded. Frustration boiling over at the sudden onslaught of emotions. You tasted salt on your lips, figured the damn water works started. You knew you were slowly becoming a mess, ruining what you fixed for two hours, but that doesn't really matter when inside you was pure wreckage and devastation. "I swear to god, if you fucking know any of this, or even planned this!"

"Yuki, I swear!" Tooru cried, voice laced with frustration and hurt. 

A sob broke out of you and you keened forward, trying to regain your senses by slowly breathing in and out. You were breaking down and breaking apart, holding on to the thin thread holding yourself together as you tried to hold yourself back from crying and screaming and breaking every goddamn thing on sight. Tooru's voice seemed muddled and so far away, somewhere far from reaching you as you drown in your own thoughts.

The knocks at the door barely registered in your brain.

"Are you okay?" came the words from behind.

You turned your head so fast you saw white for a second before it quickly changed to fiery red. It took three strides to whip the door open, revealing your tear-streaked face and baring to Hajime your heart and your soul once again as you wept for everything that broke and everything that hurt.

His surprise quickly turned to remorse then to determination before reaching out to hug you.

The first whiff of his smell and the feel of his arms around you sent shivers down your spine, something so familiar and foreign, soft and strong, divine and sinful, all at once that it took a moment for the reality to sink in. You struggled, pushing and shoving and punching your way out of his hold, even as your heart yearned and longed for his solidity.

"Let me go," you gritted out, your fist meeting his back and his side as you tried to push him away. Your sobs were getting stronger as each second pass, sucking all the strength out of you even as your screams and pleas for him to let go fell on deaf ears.

In exchange, his hands run soothingly through your hair, whispering softly by your ear the promises he broke.

"Please," he begged. 

For what, you didn't know. Didn't want to know. Didn't want to care. 

All you wanted was to cry and beat and punch and scream the hurt and the pain you held inside you. To release all that you hid in your heart. To throw away the burden weighing on your shoulders. As you slid down to the floor on your weakened knees, Hajime cushioned the fall, sliding down with you and gathering you in his arms, holding you as you let everything out, all the while whispering words you longed to hear, you breathed to hear, and still, they hurt and hurt and hurt.

  
You didn't know when you fell asleep. You blinked, with eyelids heavy and swollen, you registered the darkness of the room. And that you were not alone.

Sitting up didn't come with the massive headache that screams with every move. That's what you get from crying yourself to sleep. Still, you made your way out of the room, not bothering to check appearances, simply because you knew, whoever is behind that door wouldn't care. And you just didn't care about anyone else's opinions right now. All you needed was a glass of water.

The sound of the door announced your presence to Hajime who stood up from his seat by the couch, the television his only source of light. Your eyes quickly scanned the room, noting the amber liquid sitting on the table in front of him.

Screw water.

You went straight for the bottle of rum, snatching it off the table and downing half of it. The burn was one of the best you ever felt, if not for the swaying on your feet after you slammed the bottle back down. Hajime reached out to steady you, but you held up a placating hand, glaring at him at the same time.

"That's not good for you," he chastised. "You're going to upset your stomach."

You couldn't help but stare at his words before you scoffed, suddenly offended by his words, as though an upset stomach was your biggest problem at the moment. You simply didn't care. As if to mock him further, you reached for the bottle again but he was quick to swipe it away.

"Give it back," you demanded.

Hajime shook his head.

Anger flared in the pit of your stomach, along with the liquor that burned everything in its path. In a split second, you felt the sting on your palm more than you were aware of what you were doing, the sound of the slap resounding in the room.

"That's better," he affirmed, looking hopeful even as his cheek turned red. "You can hurt me. Just please don't hurt yourself."

"Who do you think you are to tell me what to do?"

"I'm your husband-"

"Like hell you are!" you bellowed, ignoring the throbbing pain in your head and the double vision in your eyes. "You stopped being one the moment you cheated!"

When you opened your eyes, it was to find Hajime's own swimming with unshed tears. It broke your heart, seeing him this way, more so because you were the reason for those tears. It will always be this way with him, you thought. Always loving him. Always missing him. _Only him._

"I can't do this," you cried, stepping away from him.

You started to walk back to the room before Hajime spoke. "Is that all you'll ever do? Run away?"

Your steps faltered, felt every fiber of your being freeze at his words.

"One mistake, Yuki. I make one mistake and you throw every single fucking thing away. Running away to god knows where, hiding from everyone! Hiding from everything!"

"You're the one who threw everything away first!"

It was red. Red all over. Everywhere. Your vision. Your touch. Your breath. Anger and pain raging and battling to win and lord over your heart and mind, burning everything to ashes.

"I already told you what happened! How many times do you want me to apologize over one fucking dinner?" Hajime roared, tears freely flowing down his cheeks and onto Oikawa's carpet.

You scoffed, walking up to Hajime and glaring straight into his eyes. "Whatever you did with her, I don't care. You craved her attention. You craved her time. You craved her presence. You cheated. That was enough to ruin this fucking marriage, Hajime."

"No, it's not," he shot back. "I know you still love me-"

"I do," you admitted, cutting him off. "I still love you. I will always love you. But you hurt me and I'm not stupid enough to make the same mistake twice."

"It won't be a mistake because I will never do it again," he pleaded. "Please, Yuki. I need you. Please."

You stood your ground, watched as he ran a hand through his hair in frustration, spill tears after tears in pain. You didn't know when it stopped hurting, just knew you were feeling numb enough for your heart to stop aching at the sight you never wanted to see. A broken Iwaizumi Hajime.

All you could do was stand your ground, hold yourself together, and be an adult. These words were Sanae's, always chastising you, always guiding you to make wise, instead of stupid, choices. So, with all the determination you could muster, you decided to pull the trigger to end both your miseries.

"It was my fault, wasn't it?" 


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Thank you, Tooru."

It was barely a whisper, something that went barely out of your lips. For you, it felt like the words came from miles away. For Hajime, it felt like a scream right at his ear. Because the truth always hits differently, but it will always hurt.

"I never said that," Hajime shook his head, started to open his mouth, but you beat him to it.

"It's alright," you assured. "I realized that after moving away. How I neglected you. How I became too complacent. How I took you for granted because in my mind, you will never get tired of me. We were so compatible and comfortable with each other that I thought- I thought it would be like that forever, even without me putting effort, because you were always, always, there for me, and I'm so sorry for taking you for granted, Hajime."

You took a deep breath, doing your best in holding your tears back and holding yourself together, as you wobbly smiled, continuing your words.

"You were also human. Always craving for attention, for love and for care," you said in a teasing tone, making the two of you smile against your tears. "I didn't know at the time, but when I realized I was the one who pushed you to do those things, that it was my fault, it became clear to me why I didn't really want to go back."

You turned, smiling softly as you look into Hajime's eyes as you admitted, "I'm scared, Hajime."

"You don't have to be," Hajime consoled. "I'm right here. Always."

"I know!" you wailed, laughing as you wiped the tears away. "That's why I don't like it! Be angry with me! I should be the one apologizing, calling every goddamn day, begging for your forgiveness!"

"Whatever you think you did, it was already forgiven," he replied. He was silent after that, seemed to mull over his next words. "I'm sorry, too, for being weaker than I thought I was."

You nodded, because after getting the truth out, everything felt so clear, so simple. All answers staring right in your face and within your reach. Still.

"It was hard," Hajime admitted, smiling bitterly. "I kept telling myself I can take it, that I wasn't doing anything wrong. It wasn't like I was trying to get back at you for focusing on your career, because I knew it was your dream finally coming true. I wanted to give you the space you needed to realize that but-" you watched as he took a deep shaky breath, his hands trembling, "I missed you so much. Everyday, you were locked up in your room. You felt so far away and she was just there, talking to me, asking me about how my day went, about the projects I handle, about all those little things you used to do. And I thought- God, I honestly thought it would be fine because you were on your own and I was too, so I allowed myself to be swept away. I tried, but I know, I didn't try hard enough to reach out to you at that time…"

It broke your heart to see his eyes shining with tears, more so because you had a hand in breaking his. As you took his words to heart, etched them in your aching soul that begs for forgiveness, you wanted to reach out and wrap your arms around Hajime, but the shame you feel stopped you.

"When I first met Sanae, the woman I stay with, she told me that what our sins are doesn't matter, its how we make up for them that does," you recounted, remembering that first night at her house. You were still frazzled then, barely responding to your surroundings but she was kind enough to let someone like that stay with her.

"I guess, what I'm saying is, it took some time before I realized that I've forgiven you, even before I left Tokyo. In my heart, I already forgave you for your actions, but I was stupid enough to ignore that. I told myself that you were the one I haven't forgiven, the reason why I didn't want to go home, but it was me all along. I haven't forgiven myself for my actions, for doing what I did, for not doing what I should've done. I'm a coward, always running away, always hiding. I didn't want to come back and see you with somebody else."

"You gave me your ring back," he whispered, voice laced with confusion and agony.

"I did because I thought it was the right thing to do. Honestly? Everyday, I wake up and pray not to receive divorce papers that day, and each day that passes without one feels like a breath of life for me."

Hajime chuckled, shaking his head. "You know I could never do that," and with a determined glint in his eyes, he added, "I will never do that."

You laughed, despite the tears flowing freely down your cheeks now. It felt so good to get the truth out and off your chest, something that weighed heavily down your shoulders.

You were both quiet for a while, only the sound of soft sniffles heard.

"Can I kiss you?" Hajime quipped, looking as though he wasn't asking because he was already stepping forward, reaching for your cheek softly as he pulled you close, so close, before sealing your lips with his own.

As your lips part a lifetime after, mere centimeters apart, both gasping for air and for each other, holding on to each other too tight and too close but still wasn't enough, will never be enough.

Maybe it was the longing after hundreds of days apart that felt like decades of nothing but loneliness and pain. Maybe it was the pain still creeping underneath the acceptance of what happened. Maybe it was the love that exploded in your veins after suppressing it for so long. Maybe it was everything all together, all at once.

You knew deep down inside you, that for whatever reason, it didn't really matter. You knew that you would say it all over again, do it all over again, as you breathed, "I love you, Hajime."

And it felt so right, to say those words, to feel him against you like this, to share the same breath you take, to share the same beat in your hearts.

As you settled your head on Hajime's shoulder, your eyes caught one of the framed photos in Tooru's hallway. The one taken on your wedding day, with Tooru in the middle, hugging you and Hajime as he kisses your cheek. You were grinning widely at the camera, while Hajime looks at the two of you with a soft smile on his face.

_"You should always look this way, Iwa-chan! People would never know you're a barbarian if you always smile like that," Tooru declares loudly later that night._

_A smack on the back of Tooru's head was Hajime's response, before throwing himself down on the bed. He settled on your other side, as Tooru occupies the other, the two of you engrossed on the photos taken a while ago. Within seconds, Hajime was already snoring, exhausted from the events that day. You were also tired, but the excitement and giddiness consistently flowing in your veins kept you awake._

_After minutes of silence, Tooru turned to you with the softest and most genuine smile you ever saw in his face, tears flowing down his cheeks._

_"I want you to know," Tooru began, lips trembling softly, "that I am the happiest when the two of you are together, and I hope you stay that way forever."_

For what it's worth, seeing the picture only made you cry harder, hold Hajime tighter, but with a smile on your face as you whispered, "Thank you, Tooru."


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Fuck that. It's your last day, Iwaizumi Hajime."

Maybe getting bodily slammed by a big man like Matsukawa wasn't the best way to get woken up, regardless of what happened hours before.

You coughed, keening forward as the force of his weight slammed all the air out of your lungs. Pandemonium ensued before you could even inhale oxygen back to your woozy head. Pushing the blanket off your head, you glared at the statue of idiots, one on the floor by your side and the other by the door, both of them with wide eyes and gaping mouths.

Hiro screamed. Issei fell flat on his back.

On your side, Hajime groaned, curling his body around your waist using the arm he has around it. He blinked, lifting his head enough to see Hiro standing by the door.

No one was speaking until Mattsun, in his most intimidating voice broke the silence. "I'm giving you two seconds to explain," he gritted out.

Then came Makki. "Fuck that. It's your last day, Iwaizumi Hajime."

" _Not a fucking word_ ," Makki warned you a little while later, after they were able to calm down enough to be civil and bring the interrogation to a decent location, specifically Tooru's kitchen.

You gaped, taken aback at his words and tone. A placating hand on your arm stopped your complaints, and you turn to see Mattsun shaking his head. With a sigh, you swallowed your words and sagged on your seat with a roll of your eyes.

For a while, no one was talking. Makki sat in front of Hajime, glaring with all his might. Mattsun kept you company as a spectator, silently watching how things will unfold. You would have kept up with the staring, but your growling stomach was enough reason to ignore Makki and Mattsun's theatrics.

You sighed, standing up from your seat.

"Omurice?" you asked, addressing everyone in the room by looking at each of them one by one. Thankfully, all of them had the decency to give their assent through their raised hands.

Before long, you had your ingredients prepared and got to work, giving everyone their respective tasks as you sit on the dining table. When everything was set, you sat back down and motioned your hand towards them.

"Let's start?" you asked.

"Let's make this clear," Makki said, pointing the whisk at you, then at Hajime, "you two met here by coincidence last night, and you talked about your issues and made up? All in one night?"

"Well-"

"It's not-"

The two of you stopped, waited a beat before you nodded at Hajime and motioning for him to go first. He shook his head, wanting for you to go ahead.

"We haven't… really… made up?" you carefully said, wary of Hajime's reaction, but he nodded, so you figured he felt the same way.

Regardless of what happened last night, it felt like things haven't really come to an end, still felt like there was still something missing. That doesn't mean last night was fruitless. Many good things came out from your talk last night, mainly the weight on your chest and the tension between you and Iwaizumi. You knew you were merely a few steps away from finally clearing things with each other and with yourselves.

Makki's eyebrow rose so high it was almost comical. "Oh, really? Even though _I_ almost had a heart attack seeing the two of you on the _same_ bed minutes ago? For all I know, you guys had make-up sex, to hell with everything and everybody else."

"Makki!" you cried, a mixture of shock and embarrasment. 

Matsukawa snorted. Oikawa, who recently joined your group via video call, groaned so loud the table vibrated. Hajime turned towards the pan fast, the effect of Makki's words evident as his face and neck turned red.

"That is not what happened," you reiterated, saying the words through gritted teeth. "We talked. That's it."

"So you still haven't forgiven him?" Makki wondered?

"I haven't!"

"You haven't?!" Matsukawa, Oikawa and Hajime asked.

"Oh, for heaven's sake! Hanamaki, last night was exhausting enough as it is," you growled, your emotions tipping over. "My eyes are still swollen! I'm hungry! I'm mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausted from so many things I don't even care to think about anymore! Can't you at least wait until I get food in my stomach before doing this to me?! I already told you. We didn't do anything! Sure, Hajime looks fine as hell and even more than before, but we didn't do anything besides talking and crying, okay?"

You found yourself breathless by the end of your speech, while the four of them remained frozen. You were glaring, daring anyone to defy your words and be stupid enough to face your wrath when Matsukawa's face broke out in his trademark wolfish grin.

"I totally get you, though. Iwaizumi looks fine as hell," he mused, holding both of his hands up in surrender, far different from the huge smirk on his lips and eyes sparkling with mischief. "I mean, look at those arms. And that as-"

Whatever Mattsun was supposed to say, the world will never know. You jumped for his throat.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was simply no word to describe all that he was feeling at the moment, but all he knew was that he'd have to get away before he drowned.

Iwaizumi felt like his head will split open any second now, with all the constant pounding and utter chaos brought about by Hanamaki and Matsukawa. He was still reeling from last night, surely you were too, yet now you were being bombarded with questions after questions. He couldn't complain, not even one bit despite his booming migraine, because Makki was talking to him again and the simplicity and normalcy of having the five of you altogether, regardless of Oikawa's virtual presence and the many months of being apart, Iwaizumi wouldn't ask for anything else.

  
This is what home feels like. This is what happiness feels like. This was what he was yearning for, what he was missing out on, ever since you left that morning.

He must have zoned out long and hard because suddenly, your hand was in his line of vision, offering him a tiny capsule.

  
"Take this," you told him.

  
Blinking, he shook himself awake, taking the medicine from you. He felt a solid pang on his chest at the sight of your finger, free from the ring binding you to him overpowering the surge of warmth at your sweet gesture. Clearing his throat, he quickly looked away and grabbed the glass in front of him as he popped the medicine to his mouth.

  
Somehow, you knew exactly what was on his mind as you said, "Sorry."

  
"What? What's this about?" Matsukawa inquired, confused at your words.

  
"My ring," you answered. 

  
Iwaizumi could feel your eyes on him, but the weight in his chest left him frozen.

  
"I gave it back to him before leaving," you clarified. Everyone was silent then, the only indication they heard was Matsukawa's soft oh.

  
"Will you take it back?" Oikawa asked.

  
"Not yet," you replied, making him look up at you. You smiled, "but soon."

The next hour was spent on breakfast and light-hearted topics, Hanamaki and Matsukawa focusing on your time in Onomichi. Iwaizumi felt so out of place, felt like he was out of the picture as you shared your days in a faraway town like it was some kind of vacation. 

  
Oikawa's input only made it worse. 

  
His stories making it sound like an out of town trip, when before, he was sharing Iwaizumi's agony in missing you.

His chair made a loud, scraping noise as he stood up, body rigid like stone. He didn't want to be rude, but his massive headache and the jealousy and pity churning in his stomach made it maddening to listen as you gushed about your time with Ren and his older brother ( _he's hot_ , _Oikawa cuts in_ ). 

  
He just couldn't.

Everyone froze.

  
"Excuse me," he said through gritted teeth, before placing his dirty dishes on the sink.

It wasn't right to feel this way. He knew he was being petty, immature, senseless, unfair, or whatever word it could be, but he didn't care. There was simply no word to describe all that he was feeling at the moment, but all he knew was that he'd have to get away before he drowned.

He was left alone for almost an hour.

  
He knew because he stared at the clock on Tooru's wall the whole time. He was grateful for the time, allowed him to settle with himself and the war waging inside and wounding him.

  
"May I come in?"

  
He didn't answer, but the door still clicked open.

  
"Makki and Mattsun left," you said by way of coming in. "They both had appointments and stuff they had to do at work, so they went ahead."

  
His gaze naturally moved towards you, watched as you pursed your lips and kept your hands behind you. He knew he was putting you in a difficult spot, knew he didn't have the right to make you feel this way. He should be glad that you were able to move forward, to be happy as you deserved to be. Even so, it still hurts not sharing those moments with you and he didn't want to burden you with his emotions.

  
Sitting up, he gave you his undivided attention.

"Hiroshi-san came by and dropped this off."

  
In your hands was a plaque with gold and black furnish. As his hand reached out to get it from you, he squints at the sight of his name written in bold black letters.

  
"It's some sort of recognition," you started, by way of explanation. He wasn't sure why your voice sounded shaky, so he waited. Clearing your throat, you continued, "recognition for the people who supported the authors in the company. They were given to parents, partners, editors. To whoever we wanted to show our appreciation for supporting us."

  
He blinked, while his hand started to tremble. He couldn't find the words to ask you. Instead, his eyes held the question he wasn't able to voice out. 

You looked away, a blush creeping up your face.

"It's yours, Hajime. You were by my side throughout my whole journey as an author, even when I was still struggling looking for an editor and a publishing house. You were right there by my side, cheering for me, supporting me. I know, I barely say it in words, but you will always be the reason I write, Hajime, so thank you. Thank you for allowing me to live my dream."

  
As he stared at the plaque once more, his vision started swimming, but he blinked the tears away. Slowly, he placed the plaque down on the bed before standing up and facing you. With two large steps, he closed the gap between you, holding you tight.

  
"I'm sorry for wanting to take that away from you," Iwaizumi whispered, lips close to the top of your head. "I was selfish. Please forgive me."

  
"It's alright now, Hajime," you crooned, softly rubbing his back. "I was thanking you, not blaming you," you joked, making him smile.

  
"Is this why you went back to Tokyo?"

  
He could feel your head nodding by his shoulder.  
"Why you were dressed up?"

  
Again, a nod.

  
"You are so beautiful."

  
"Thanks," you replied, your smile evident on your voice.

"Will you come back?"

  
Iwaizumi couldn't help asking as he watched you pack for your trip back to Onomichi. He didn't understand why you were still going back there when you two have finally made up. 

  
He could feel the weight of the sigh you let out, as you shoved the last of your things inside your suitcase. The sound of the zipper closing felt so loud for Hajime's taste.

  
"I will come back," you answered, turning to him with an apologetic face.

  
"We've made up, right? So why are you leaving?" He didn't want to sound petty as he is now, but he was desperate.

  
Reaching for his hand, you worked your way to let it loose from a tight fist before entwining your fingers with his. You looked up, with those bright eyes that made his knees weak, and Hajime knew he was now in trouble. You only looked this way when you want something he could never say no to. 

  
Always have, always will.

  
"We made up, Hajime, with each other, but not with ourselves," you replied, voice soft and tender. Your voice was soothing all his nerves, and he could feel his muscles go lax from the tension. "You know that right?"

  
It took a while for him to nod, because he wanted to be honest, but he didn't want you to leave.

  
"I'm going back to help myself. To forgive myself for all the things I've done, so I can be with you as a whole again," you said with conviction. "Will you give that to me, Hajime?"

  
"You will come back right?" 

  
He wanted to be sure, to be certain that he was not losing you again. Not this time. Not ever.  
His world seemed to end when you shook your head.

  
Standing on your tiptoes, you kissed his cheek, softly squeezed his hand you were holding, catching his attention.

  
"When you've forgiven yourself, come and get me."


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I live for you, Yuki," he whispered. "Will you take me back?"

You were wheezing.  
And crying.  
And laughing.

  
"I-I can't-" you paused, cracking up and shaking from too much laughter.

  
"Stop laughing, Yuki! I will push you down this road if you weren't my best friend," Oikawa grumbled with an eyeroll. His face was red, making you laugh harder. At the sight of you laughing your ass off again, he couldn't help the loud groan coming out of him before stomping his way far from you.

  
"I'm sorry-Oikawa, please, just-" you inhaled, sucking air back into your suffering lungs because of too much laughter.

  
The scenario was just too crazy and borderline hilarious. Something only an Oikawa Tooru would think of. Matsukawa and Hanamaki, sure, but to think, even the Iwaizumi Hajime would get dragged into it, though. You could only shake your head at the thought, rather, the reality.

"It was Tooru's idea," Hajime spat.

  
"Evidently," you, Hanamaki and Matsukawa agreed.

  
Sanae raised an eyebrow so high it was close to her hairline.

  
You were sitting in Sanae's dinner table, after the disastrous and hilarious meet-up back at the airport. You were recounting the story of how you chanced upon the two of them at the arrival area, only to hear Tooru's grand and elaborate plan for you and Hajime's reconciliation, involving some ridiculous fireworks and flowers.

  
Tooru sat in his place, a dark shade of red on his face and neck, shamed beyond repair.

  
"Totally ridiculous," Sanae mused with a shake of her head. "I'm disappointed. I thought you know her more than anyone else, Tooru. She hates those things."

  
"See? Even Sanae-san knows!" Hajime chimes in.

  
"I get it, okay? So will you please stop attacking me now, and focus on the more important matter?" Tooru cried, looking close to actual tears.

  
Taking pity on him, you sighed before saying, "Sure. What is this important matter you're so eager to talk about?"

  
"You and Hajime, of course! You're back together, right? I mean, all of us here are pretending not to notice your hands are permanently glued to each other under the table, but this makes it official, right?"

  
The heat that broke out your face was so evident, even a five-year old would catch your embarassment. You turned to Hajime, couldn't help smiling softly as he turned to you at the same time.

  
"Well then, stop pretending," Hajime counters as he lifted your linked hands and placed them on the table.

  
Matsukawa and Sanae laughed, while Hanamaki and Oikawa simply rolled their eyes.

Three months flew by since the day you went back to Tokyo. Three months spent on nothing but longing and yearning and missing for the one you love, while you healed your heart and soul. Three months spent on growing as an individual, as a person who can love and live after being broken. Three months on forgiving and atoning for the burdens of your heart, hoping that when that day comes, you'll be ready to love him again and this time, to love him at your best.

  
"God forbid," Oikawa groaned. "I guess it's official?"

  
With a smile on your face and determination in your heart, you replied, "Yes."

"Yuki," Hajime whispered. "Come and walk with me."

  
Looking up from your seat, you frowned, but followed nonetheless. Sneaking a glance at the other three men occupied with Sanae's storytelling, he took your hand and silently made your way out of the house. The hand you were holding was cold, making you frown deeper.

  
"What's wrong?" you asked, worried. "Is your stomach upset? Headache?"

  
Hajime shook his head, chuckling. "I'm fine, just tired, I guess."

  
"Tired? Then shouldn't you head to bed than go walk?"

  
"No!" he cried. "I mean, it's fine. I just-the stars! I want to see the stars. It's lovely here. The night is beautiful," he said, rambling.

  
"Are you sure? You seem fidgety to me. Are you cold?" you asked, uncertain.

  
"I'm sure," he replied adamantly.

  
Taking him for his word, you conceded, walking beside him quietly. For a while, the two of you were silent, basking in the sky filled with bright stars and listening to the silent sway of the leaves. Occasionally, when your shoulder would bump on his arm, he squeezes your hand he was holding before smiling softly. It made your heart skip and filled your stomach with butterflies.

You must've been walking for a ridiculously long time because a familiar light caught your attention. You blinked, wondering if you were right or not. Maybe fifteen minutes more or less, and you'll reach the place.

  
"Wanna go back?" Hajime cuts through your haze.

  
"No!" you exclaimed, surprising him. "Let's continue just for a little more."

  
"We've walked for a long time now. Your feet are not aching yet?"

  
"I'm fine. Don't worry about me," you replied. "Let's keep going?"

"What is this place?" Hajime wondered, eyes roaming all over the place.

  
"The Ribbon Chapel. It's beautiful, isn't it?"

  
"It is," he replied just as quickly, still in awe at the sight in front of him.

  
You watched, waited for him to get his fill of the view before offering your hand to him. When he took it, you gave him a soft smile before leading him outside and into the staircases.

  
"Sanae introduced me to this place," you began, your voice mixing with the rustle of the leaves and splash of the waves as the two of you started to make your way up. "It was a difficult time then. I was just so angry and exhausted. I didn't even want to think. All I wanted was to cry and forget about everything."

  
"This place enlightened me. Taught me so much even without words and actions. Showed me that even after everything that has happened, you and I are the same. That we're still together, even when we're thousands of miles apart." 

  
"Regardless of the right and wrong, what matters is the love we have for each other because if that love is not strong enough to withstand any challenges life throws at it, then it will collapse. We got close, but we survived, right?"

  
As you reached the landing, Hajime kept his hold on your hand even as you loosened your hold to grip the railing. You smiled, giving his hand a light squeeze as he kissed the top of your head.  
Up here, it felt so surreal, almost like a dream because of how beautiful and warm it made you feel. Everything felt like a dream, but you knew it was reality because you felt the tears fall down your cheek.

  
"You see, Sanae was married," you continued, sniffling lightly as the tears continue. "She didn't want me to live with the same regrets as she does, so she guided me. Helped me. Encouraged me. She supported me as I healed myself from my mistakes. I owe it all to her that I have you back."

  
"I owe her, too," Hajime said, grinning as he wiped your tears away.

  
You sniffled, trying your best to calm down. "For what?"

  
"For taking you in, helping you, guiding you. For telling me about this place," Hajime declared proudly. "She said, go take a walk going east," he added, chuckling. 

  
Taking a step back, he grinned at you as he wiped another tear away before going down on one knee.

  
You only had a second to inhale before sobs started wracking your shoulders and another second later, Hajime was on his feet, holding you to him as tight as he could.

  
"I live for you, Yuki," he whispered. "Will you take me back?"

  
You nodded, choked up with tears and emotion as you wrapped your arms around him just as tightly.  
"I'm the same," you managed, smiling wobbly up at him. "I love you, Hajime."

  
As he lifted your hand towards him, another sniffle could be heard behind you and you turned, blinking away the tears only to find three grown men with puffy eyes crying with an old woman who had a smug smile on her face. You couldn't help but laugh at the sight of them, sharing a laugh with Sanae as Hajime started tearing up, too.

  
"Oh god, Hajime! Not you too!" you laughed, wiping his cheeks dry.

  
You watched as he struggled to get the words out, only to give up and instead, kiss your forehead before sliding the ring on your finger.

  
"I love you," he whispered after kisses, again and again as you laughed and cried and hugged.

It took a while for all of you to calm down, since Sanae only started crying when all of you were done, which started another round of crying and laughing and hugging. The warmth you were feeling made it seem like you were floating up in the sky, weightless to be flown away by the cool breeze. It was on your way down when you remembered.

  
"Oh, right! I forgot to ask!" you exclaimed, making all of them turn to you. With all the seriousness you could muster, you asked, "Iwaizumi Hajime, will you take us back?"

  
As if in slow motion, all the men blinked before their foreheads started creasing in confusion.

  
"Us?" Oikawa queried.

  
"Yup!" you chirped, placing a hand on your belly. "Us."

  
You watched as their eyes followed your hand, taking a solid minute before their faces showed any hint of confirmation.

"Good god," Matsukawa breathed.

  
"I'm going to faint," Tooru gasped, leaning on the railing beside him.

As if to deliver a finishing blow, Sanae chimed in, "She's three months pregnant!"

"I will fucking kill you, Iwaizumi Hajime!" Hanamaki growled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! This is it! The last chapter for something I did on a whim, but became so much more as I went through with it.
> 
> I want to thank the people who sent positive feedback on this work, being this as my first work inspired by the Ribbon Chapel in Onomichi I saw on George Clarke's Amazing Spaces (geeky, I know). It was a small spark that brought me happiness with all your kindness, so thank you very much! 
> 
> To NekoNekoNekoma, VBO14, kowsgomoo, origami_fish, Emmuyasha, littlecinders, paradigma, Satomi711, ashnaruto0123, sneezefiction, KanameZero4Eva, trashcanhere, and nunchi_0, as well as to the other guests that left their kudos, thank you! You are the reason I pushed myself to complete Scars Fade, even after I got hit by writer's block so many times and after it got buried in real life responsibilities. Thank you!
> 
> I hope this somehow lived up to your expectations and that you felt the way I did as I go through the words written here. I hope we all find that our hearts are light and our shoulders free from any burden.
> 
> Ichi-go ichi-e


	23. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa Tooru presents the best house warming gift ever.

"Yuki, we're here…"

Slowly, you opened your eyes to see Hajime standing by your side, the car door wide open. You blinked against the sudden assault of lights, groaning as you unfastened the seatbelt. Now free from the restraint, you let your head rest on his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you.

"I'm exhausted," you complained with a sigh.

"I know," Hajime replied, tightening his arms around you. "Just a little more, then you can go sleep."

"I'm hungry."

"Then we'll eat first before resting," he said, chuckling.

It was finally the weekend of your return to Tokyo, a month after your reunion with Hajime back in Onomichi. With so many things to do and catch up on, you decided it was best to move back to Tokyo, especially in your condition, but not without properly leaving things behind in Onomichi. It was time you fought so hard to get after revealing to your friends about your pregnancy, despite their initial shock, disbelief (Oikawa's, mainly), and awe (Matsukawa's entirely). Hajime was busy crying, his head on your belly as he knelt down on the floor that night (It was too much for him to take that he ran a fever the next day, much to the delight and pleasure of Tooru and Makki).

It's not like you were never coming back there. The place and the people wormed their place in your heart, never to be forgotten and never to be replaced. After all, you wouldn't be where you are now if it wasn't for the people there, specially Sanae who promised to visit for the holidays. You were secretly hoping you could convince her to stay with you in Tokyo for good, having already voiced your idea with Hajime. He was skeptical at first, aware of the elder's stubborness and independence, but remained supportive of you knowing how much you cared for her. The people in town were kind-hearted, but there's only so much they could do for Sanae. In the city, access to necessities for someone her age, regardless of her insistence, would be easier. There will be tons more of the advantages of staying in Tokyo, but for now, with your growing bump and a sky-high list of things to do and prepare, your plot would have to sit back on your mind for a bit.

Raising your head, you blinked at the sight in front of you, before frowning in confusion.

"Hajime, this isn't our apartment," you whined, pouting at the fact that he woke you up when you weren't even in your apartment yet.

"It isn't," he agreed, which only made your confusion worse.

Pushing him away to properly look at him, you frowned when you saw him smiling at your expense.

"Why did you wake me up when we aren't home yet?"

His smile only got bigger as he replied, "We are home."

You rolled your eyes in annoyance. So much for being woken up when you're exhausted, hungry, and aching from head to toe.

Hajime found your reaction adorable, so he couldn't help but laugh. Placing a kiss at the top of your head, he whispered, "This isn't our apartment, but this is our home."

"I don't get you," you grumbled.

"It's just as I've said. This isn't our apartment, but this is our home," he repeated.

"We don't even live here," you snapped.

"Not yet," he shot back.

Sighing, you closed your eyes, willing yourself to relax and breathe. Maybe he was too tired. It was a work day and then he had to pick you up from the airport and drive back home. Maybe he was too hungry.

For many seconds, you were quiet as Hajime waited for you to process whatever it is he was saying. You stared at the two-storey building in front of you, wondering what in the world your husband is saying. The house was elegant and simple at the same time, looking like something that came out of a magazine, but still looks warm and inviting. Your eye caught on something to the side of the house and you gasped, surprised at what you saw.

"Hajime, look! They have a greenhouse!" you couldn't help but to exclaim.

The only reply you got was his loud laughter, so you pinched his side for him to stop. 

"Don't laugh at me! I love greenhouses!" you protested, patience thinning out at his actions. It didn't help that you were an emotional train wreck nowadays.

"I do know, which is why I worked hard on building it," Hajime said with a wide grin on his face.

You blinked, wondering what he meant by that before the pieces finally clicked in your head. 

He built it.

_This is our home._

_This isn't our apartment._

_Live here._

_Our home._

"Oh god," you breathed, voice trembling.

It's not just your voice, apparently, because as Hajime held your hand, that was when you realized your whole body was shaking.

"Please tell me I'm not dreaming," you whispered under your breath quickly, making Hajime laugh once more. He yelped when you pinched him again.

"You're not dreaming, and stop pinching me."

"Just wanted to make sure," you replied, sniffling.

Smiling softly, Hajime reached out and wrapped his arms around you once more. "So, do you like it?"

You nodded as a reply, holding him just as tightly as you were occupied with the tears continuously flowing from your eyes. As you blinked the tears away, you saw something that wasn't there seconds ago.

"I'm not sure whether I'm hallucinating, but I just saw Tooru run out from the front door," you told Hajime.

"Is he running towards here?"

"He is," you replied, just in time before Tooru throws himself at a well-prepared Hajime who took all the blunt force because you didn't feel any of it from Tooru's entrance.

"I missed you guys!" Tooru screamed. "You've been out here for too long! Stop making Yuki cry and just come in already!"

"This isn't your house, Tooru," Hajime grumbled, shrugging him off.

"If it's yours, then it's mine, too," Tooru quipped, helping you out of the car.

"Fat chance, you idiot. We're not married."

"You owe me your first born," Tooru shot back, only to jump at the shriek you let out.

"Shut up!" you cried, turning red in shame within seconds.

"Oh, no regrets, really. I'd offer my house over and over as long as you two end up back together," Tooru said in a reassuring tone, as though it was something you need to be reassured about.

"Tooru, please," you begged.

"Anyways, it's here now, so whatever."

"What do you mean it's here now?" Hajime, who was walking behind the two of you, asked.

As if to answer his question, the three of you watched as Matsukawa sprinted before throwing his body down a thick white mattress on your living room. When he saw the three of you standing by the doorway, he waved, before Hanamaki landed beside him, yelling, "Hey, Oikawa! Your mattress is so soft!"

The grin on Tooru's face was so maniacal you felt goosebumps. 

"The _best_ house-warming gift, yeah?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! This chapter finally concludes Scars Fade for me. The 22nd was the end, but this chapter was actually written before the former. Posting this without the 22nd chapter felt odd to me, which was why I made revisions and wrote two chapters to fully conclude the story.
> 
> If there ever comes a time in the future that I'd want to write something more for this story, then I would if I could. For now, this will suffice.
> 
> I would like to extend my gratitude to the people who sent their support, and wish you nothing but happiness for the new year ahead of us. I would love to hear from you, guys, again. Happy holidays!


End file.
